


Paths to Sainthood

by zynnser



Category: Mistborn - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Redemption, Zane makes (slightly) better life choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 04:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8876287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zynnser/pseuds/zynnser
Summary: He’s so engrossed in watching the flames that he almost doesn’t notice. A man - no, not a man, the Survivor, Kelsier - is crouching in the shadows on a nearby rooftop, surveying the fire. He’s watching just as eagerly as Zane as it engulfs the storehouse of a prominent noble family with a look of intense satisfaction on his face. 
This is my prophet, God says. Follow him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cerebel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerebel/gifts).



> I was stoked when I got a prompt involving Zane, because I think he's one of the most underexplored characters in the Mistborn trilogy. He has so much potential to do good (and bad) things, and I'm excited that I got to explore some of them here. Thank you cerebel for the wonderful request!
> 
> I also want to give a shout out to Catabre for a quick turn around on the beta read. I might have been more than a little sleep deprived while going over his edits, so all remaining mistakes are my own.

Zane hears a door open and huddles deeper into the corner. The building trembles as the door swings shut again, the poorly built supports groaning in protest at the unexpected force.

“Anyone in here?” a voice shouts. Zane glances around at the other forms splayed out on the floor as the silence echoes through the building. This is the slum where Straff keeps all his useless progeny; no one has enough of a deathwish to answer a stranger at the door.

“All right then,” the stranger says, and Zane imagines he can see the man shaking his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

_Warn them about what, exactly,_ Zane wonders. It’s not like the vermin who inhabit this hellhole are unused to hardships. Or the infighting and jockeying for position that comes with being Straff’s outcasts.

It’s possible the man means a raid by the Steel Ministry, but the idea is so ridiculous Zane dismisses it immediately. Straff’s personal allomancer breeding ground is known to only a select few. His extramarital indiscretions are more common knowledge, but he keeps those rumors under control by manipulating the obligators into turning a blind eye. No, the man must simply mean that Straff is sending someone around to weed out more of the failures, and Zane does not plan to be one of them.

Quietly, Zane unfolds himself from his place in the corner, stretching his limbs to prepare for the upcoming test of skill. He’s just starting to attract the attention of the others when the door downstairs crashes open.

Straff’s men are usually quieter when they arrive, trying not to draw unwanted attention to Straff’s dirty little secret. The footsteps on the stairs don’t sound right either; they’re too heavy and too rhythmic for the goons Straff usually sends.

Zane considers bolting for the window. The drop is three stories straight, but if he can land it with only minor injuries it’s possible he could make it to Straff’s keep. But what would he do once he was there? Straff’s men wouldn’t give a second thought to executing a trespasser, and it wasn’t as though Straff would raise a finger to stop them even if he __did__  recognize one of his bastard children.

_You are to stay here until you are fit to accompany me._ That was what Straff said every time he dropped off another child at the doorstep. It had been nearly three years since he had come in person - usually the mistress who bore the child would deliver them, forced to look at the squalor their child would live in as punishment for failing to give Straff the allomancers he wanted - but Zane still remembered the words as clear as day. Even if he were to run, he would not be welcomed anywhere else.

The door to the room swings open, interrupting Zane’s thoughts. A dozen heads swivel around to look at the intruders, and Zane has to stop himself from gaping at what he sees.  

Inquisitors. _Three_  of them.

As they stride into the room, everyone rises to their feet. Some of the ones who have been there as long as Zane share a look. They know they can’t resist the inquisitors, but they plan to go down fighting anyway.

The oldest one steps forward and it’s as if the atmosphere in the room sparks. She doesn’t even get to take a single step before the first Inquisitor is on her, spiking her straight through the middle of the forehead. The other Inquisitors follow immediately on the first’s heels, moving too fast for Zane to follow. They whirl through the room, leaving behind bloody smears as they go.

Zane ducks to the ground, hoping to escape notice by playing dead. He loathes the strategy, but here in Straff’s hideout he is a survivor before all else.

A sharp pain flares through Zane’s chest as a body landed on top of him, the spike that had killed it piercing him as well. The inquisitor above him pushes the spike down further so that it sinks deeper into Zane’s chest. The pain starts coming in waves and Zane holds in a scream, passing out as the spike pushes on the back of his breastbone.

  
~*~

  
Zane awakes to the stench of blood and shit.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he pushes himself into a sitting position. The body above him makes a sickly sound as it flops to the ground in a puddle of blood. _Puddle of blood_  might be understating things, Zane realizes as he looks around the room. The body now lying next to him is the only one that has not been dismembered; the entire room is drenched in blood and gore.  

Trying to stand up proves to be difficult, and his chest throbs with the movement. Remembering the spike of pain before he lost consciousness, Zane carefully touches his sternum in an attempt to assess the damage. To his surprise nothing feels broken or even badly damaged. He shrugs and winces as the movement pulls on injured muscles. The spike must not have been as bad as he thought if he’s still alive, not to mention able to move at all.

Heading toward the door, Zane considers his options. Straff will want to know that the Steel Ministry raided his hideaway, but Zane can’t dismiss the fact that he might kill the messenger or that he might finish Zane off just to tidy up loose ends.

Even so, Zane sees no other viable option: Straff kept Zane and the others entirely dependent on him for their necessities. Zane has no skills, no contacts, and no way of surviving on his own.

Objective determined, Zane leaves the holding room to find a change of clothes. There are extra outfits kept in storage to accommodate the ever fluctuating number of residents, and finding one roughly his size does not take long.

As he strips and scrubs off as much blood as he can, Zane contemplates waiting for darkness to make his way over to the Venture keep. The mists don’t pose a danger and there will be fewer people who might spot him and ask questions. Conversely, Straff’s guards are more likely to be on high alert during the night; more prone to strike first and ask questions later. Zane might be scrappy, but he knows he wouldn’t be able to stand up against someone with formal training. Not right now.

Satisfied with his appearance, Zane descends the stairs and slips out the back door, following the route Straff’s men take when they leave the building. He doesn’t remember where the Venture keep is exactly, but he knows to look for the largest, most ostentatious tower in the city. Urteau is Straff’s city, after all, and he settles for nothing less than the best.

Zane keeps his head down and shuffles his way through the streets, blending in with the other skaa foot traffic as he methodically works his way toward the north side of the city. The farther he goes the cleaner the streets get and the more he stands out in his plain clothing.

Heavy boots thump in a steady pattern against the stone streets, and Zane steps into a shadowed alley to avoid being noticed as a patrol walks by. He presses himself against the wall and barely stops himself from letting out a ragged gasp as the motion puts pressure on the spike stuck in his back.

_Kill them,_ whispers a voice in his head.

Zane does not. He waits until they have passed before heading deeper into the alley, deciding to stay in the shadows for now.

He passes one more pair of sentries on patrol before he arrives at a manor imposing enough to belong to Straff Venture. There are two pairs of guards at the gate, and Zane considers how best to get past them.

_Kill them,_ the voice whispers again.

Zane shakes his head. Even if he were capable, killing Straff’s guards would be a poor decision. It would alert the entire keep to his presence and label him as a threat.

Instead Zane waits.

It takes several hours but eventually he spots his opportunity. The guards turn and head back into the keep, but no new guards immediately appear. Tentatively, Zane sneaks forward and darts through the entryway, hoping that he can hide in the shadows by the entryway before anyone notices he’s there.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing?”

Zane turns and sees a guard stepping toward him, weapon drawn and a frown on his face. He doesn’t think about it, just scuttles backwards while willing the man _away_ from him.

A pressure pushes Zane against the wall and he cringes as the impact jars his spike, barely managing to stay on his feet. The guard isn’t so lucky, stumbling back a few steps and dropping his weapon on the ground.

“Coinshot!” the guard calls, dropping his metal weapon and reaching for the wooden club at his belt. “We’ve got an allomancer!”

Zane gets to his feet and puts his hands in the air. This isn’t really how he planned to get to Straff, but it will work.

“I’m here with a message for Lord Venture,” Zane says in his most commanding voice. “Take me to him.”

“Take an assassin straight to Lord Venture?” the guard snorts in disbelief. “Now why would I do that?”

Zane narrows his eyes and stares the man down. “Because I have been working for him and have interesting news about his properties in the Harrows.”

The heavy sound of armored footsteps on stone rings out as Zane finishes speaking. He assumes these are the hazekillers, summoned by the guard’s alarm about an allomancer. The guard still doesn’t look as though he buys Zane’s story, so Zane waits until the reinforcements were within earshot before trying again.

“Some of the skaa that were working in his distribution kitchen were found to be members of the Rebellion, and the Steel Ministry carried out a raid,” Zane elaborates. “There were casualties he will be interested in hearing about.”

_Just kill them!_ the voice insists.

One of the hazekillers sighs and shakes his head, keeping his weapon trained on Zane even as he addresses the guard. “Look, Culver, Lord Venture has spies all over the city, and he will be very cross with us if we accidentally dispose of one of them. Just strip him of metal and take him to the holding room.”

Two of the other hazekillers nod in agreement and the guard backs down. “All right,” he says, taking a step back but still not picking up his weapon. “You’ve been serving House Venture longer than me, so on your head be it.”

The hazekiller grins in a way that suggests the guard has it entirely backwards. “Of course. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have an allomancer to escort.”

Two long pikes with wickedly sharp obsidian blades appear at Zane’s throat as a third man steps forward to pat him down. Zane lifts his arms and holds his head high; he has nothing to hide and he knows it.

“This way then, if you please,” the leader says once the search of his person comes up with nothing. The two pikes at his throat move so that they are aimed at his chest, allowing him room to walk but not to escape. Zane would approve of their caution, were it not aimed at him.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach the keep itself. The hazekillers lead him through a long series of hallways and turns that Zane is sure are meant to disorient him before depositing him in a room right next to the entrance. The room itself is the most opulent Zane has ever been in, furnished entirely in upholstered wood and draped in fabric. He also notes that there is not a single piece of metal that he can see, and tries pushing again the way he pushed on the guard.

Nothing happens.

Zane settles himself into the largest chair in the room, because if there’s nothing else he can do, he might as well be comfortable.

Straff Venture lets him stew in the room for long enough that the chair begins to feel uncomfortable, a feat he hadn’t thought was possible.

_Kill him,_ the voice whispers as the door finally opens and Straff strides through, looking taller and more imposing than Zane remembers. Still ignoring the voice, Zane doesn’t stand to acknowledge him, doesn’t pay the respect due to him as a lord. Zane wants Straff to _earn_  his place above him, now that he knows he has something Straff wants.

Looking unperturbed, Straff moves toward the plainest chair and takes a seat. His body language is self assured as though he _knows_  he holds all the cards and is merely playing along with Zane’s display for expediency’s sake.

“So, Zane,” Straff says evenly. “What are you doing in my home?”

Zane decides to go with the truth, or at least a version of it.

“The Inquisitors paid a visit to the house where you kept us,” Zane says, going straight to the point. “I was out on a supply run when they came, but they’re the only ones who leave that kind of carnage behind.”

“I see,” Straff replies, still looking unruffled. Zane wonders how he really feels, knowing that the Inquisitors found his hideaway - a secret that could see him executed - and slaughtered all of his offspring. “So tell me why I shouldn’t do the same to you? You’re a loose end, and I can’t afford to keep those around when they don’t do anything for me.”

So Straff wants him to say it. Fair enough.

“I’m an allomancer.”

Straff doesn’t reply, simply raises an eyebrow as a sign for Zane to elaborate.

“The scene was...” Zane considers for a moment, searching for a word that will explain why he snapped __now__  as opposed to during one of Straff’s competitions, “grotesque. And when I came to your keep I was able to psuh the guard’s dagger away me hard enough to unbalance him.”

“I could use another Coinshot,” Straff muses. “But before we get to that, drink this.”

Zane takes the vial and downs it in one go. He assumes it is some sort of sedative or relaxant that will make him more susceptible to Straff’s bidding, but he finds himself unbothered by the idea.

“Excellent,” Straff says once Zane has emptied the vial. “I’ll have the steward show you to your new quarters. I’ll expect you to do everything he says. I already have a Coinshot in my ranks, so I’ll schedule some time into her duties to train you.”

Zane nods along agreeably, his earlier anger and rebellion all but gone.

_Kill him,_ the voice whispers again.

A feeling of unease rushes over Zane without warning and something flares in his core. He snaps to attention, sitting up straight and staring at Straff.

“What are you doing?” he asks, senses screaming at him that Straff is doing __something__.

“Oh?” Straff says, voice still soothingly even.

Soothingly even.

Soothing.

Zane frowns and focuses on Straff, drawing on the new power he feels inside himself. Straff isn’t quite the right target, but there’s something there. “Someone is burning metal, just outside the room,” he says, confident in his assessment.

“And how do you know that?”

“I can feel it,” Zane says, then shakes his head, trying to describe the new sense. “It’s like a fire in the distance, I can tell that someone is burning metal.”

Leaning back, Straff looks inordinately pleased. “You’re a Mistborn then? Can you sense anything else, boy? Try for me.”

Zane wants to glower, but keeps his face neutral. He hates being tested, but if he wants to achieve anything with Straff, he has to make himself indispensable first.

And Mistborn __are__  indispensable.

So he focuses and tries to extend his new found sense as though he were listening in on a conversation he wasn’t meant to overhear. He’s immediately overwhelmed with a flare from Straff, and flinches back before he can help himself.

“You’re burning metal too,” he says once he regains his equilibrium.

“Good enough,” Straff says, rising to his feet. “I’ll schedule you to train with my Lurchers and Coinshots in the morning, but first we’ll have to make you presentable. The steward will show you to the allomancer’s quarters and will wake you up in the morning.”

“Yes, Father.”

Straff turns to face Zane when he reaches the doorway, but doesn’t comment at Zane’s informal address. “I’m expecting great things from you, Zane. Don’t disappoint me.”

  
~*~

  
Nearly a year after Zane arrives at the Venture home in Urteau Straff’s training still takes up most of his time. Straff has never given any obvious outward indication that he is satisfied with Zane’s progress, but Zane can tell that Straff is pleased nonetheless. It’s clear in the ever increasing number of spying trips Straff sends him on, and the increased rigor of the training Straff invents for him.

Today is different though.

Today Straff looks as though one of the ashmounts has decided to start spewing directly into his reception hall, and his mood does not lighten even as Zane subtly soothes his temper.

“You called for me, Father?” Zane asks, approaching the wooden desk Straff works at as though nothing is wrong.

“You have proven to be useful here in Urteau this past year,” Straff says shortly. “Now I am going to take you to Luthadel with me.”

“Of course, Father,” he says smoothly, not giving away the lurch of excitement that runs through him. Luthadel is a large city, big enough to hold his attention even without all the rival houses and other Mistings that roam the streets. Urteau has started to feel like a ball and chain and Zane is glad he will have a change in scenery.

“Don’t take this as me giving you free reign,” Straff warns. “There are rumors of unrest in the city and I am not fool enough to leave myself exposed. You will join the keep guard and patrol with them until I see fit to give you more tasks.”

_Kill him,_ God whispers. _Kill him and take his fortune._

Not now, Zane thinks. Not when he can deliver me to the heart of the kingdom.

“Yes, Father,” Zane agrees. Filling a place in the guard won’t occupy his time, but he’s hardly going to inform Straff of that.

Straff nods in dismissal and Zane turns leaves. A little unrest has never bothered Straff before; something important must have happened for him to _want_  Zane in the city with him, and Zane intends to figure out what it is.

  
~*~

  
Luthadel, as it turns out, is a bigger, dirtier version of Urteau; which makes it the perfect playground for a Mistborn.

Straff has Zane on the day guard at Keep Venture to keep him available for nighttime assignments as the need arises. For now though, Zane’s nights are his own. Sure, he lets Straff think he’s tucked into his bed in the bowels of the keep where the servants are quartered, but in reality he spends nearly every night exploring the city and learning its secrets.

Zane has yet to run into any other Mistborn, but he assumes that is largely because of their copperclouds. He has passed under the noses of more than one Tineye guarding the keeps of various great Houses at night, and has been able to sense more than one allomancer among the crowds of skaa that pass by the keep every day. He was a little surprised at first, by the number of allomancers among the skaa, but it makes sense that in a city filled with nobles with appetites like Straff’s but not the cunning to match that there would be dozens if not hundreds of illegitimate Misting children running around.

Tonight Zane has anchored himself to the roof of the tower adjacent to Straff’s study. He has found that this is an ideal location to spy on Straff and get the answers he wants.

_Kill him,_ God commands. _He is drained and unable to fight, now is the perfect time._

_Not now,_ Zane thinks in reply. _Straff is still useful._ During the past year Zane discovered that God revels in chaos and destruction. While he does not disapprove on principle, Zane finds that a methodical approach yields more consistent results than the opportunism God favors, and he is determined not to let the voice of a vengeful God be his downfall.

Inside the study Straff sighs and sets down a paper, running his hand over his face before looking down again. Straff is too smart to say what he’s thinking out loud - too used to his own powers as a Tineye not to know that someone could be listening in from even beyond the keep walls - but he can’t stop Zane from reading over his shoulder even in the dim light.

The paper contains atium reports; the same thing Straff has been reading every night for the past week. Zane has spent enough time outside Straff’s window to know that the majority of House Venture’s wealth and influence comes from operating the Lord Ruler’s atium mines.

As far as Zane can tell, the reports told how much atium was shipped out of the mines on a weekly basis. Straff had been reviewing old reports as well as the current one, and Zane hasn’t seen any appreciable difference in the amount of atium supplied to the Lord Ruler, which means that something else is worrying Straff.

Straff sighs again and pinched the bridge of his nose. It’s late - late enough to be considered early - and Zane knows that Straff will be retiring to his quarters to sleep very soon. That also means that he will lock up the room tightly enough that Zane can’t get in, but maybe if he pushes just a little, tonight will be different.

Making his touch as smooth and subtle as he can, Zane riots Straff’s exhaustion while simultaneously soothing away the remnants of his alertness. He watches with satisfaction as Straff stacks up the papers and slides them into a drawer, locking it closed with his personal key.

Zane pushes harder at the exhaustion, going for the creeping sensation of fogginess he himself has experienced on early morning guard duty after a late night of watching Straff.

The key clacks against the table as Straff puts his hands on the table to push himself out of his chair. Just a little more, a __little__ more, and Straff places the key in its box and leaves the room, locking the door behind him.

The door, but not the window.

Zane waits until he can’t hear Straff’s footsteps with his tin enhanced ears before pulling himself across the courtyard to the window ledge of Straff’s office. Burning steel, he opens the latch on the window and slips inside, landing lightly on his feet so as not to disturb anyone else who might be working in the tower.

Retrieving the key and opening the desk takes no time at all, but sifting through the paperwork does. There are __so many__  reports, more than Zane had expected. For the atium alone there are shipment reports, mining reports, distribution reports, reports on the guards and their pay, reports on the skaa workers, and reports on the supplies needed to run the operation.

Zane skims through the documents, looking for anything that might be out of place or unusual.

It takes nearly an hour before he finds what he’s looking for, buried in the stack of personnel reports from around the time Straff brought him to Luthadel.

_Escapee,_ it reads. _Escapee from the Pits._

Zane pulls out the report and reads it from beginning to end, then scans through the other personnel reports to see if the man - the Mistborn who escaped - is mentioned in any more reports.

Unfortunately he is not, but Zane can understand why. A skaa escaping from the Pits - let alone a skaa Mistborn - would be bad news for Straff. Potentially bad enough that Straff might bring his own Mistborn to the city to protect himself.

Zane goes back to the original document and reads it again, looking for anything he might have missed. He’s just about to replace the stack of papers in the desk when a scrap of paper falls out. It’s in Straff’s handwriting, probably a clarifying note to himself about one of the reports. Zane has seen him write a dozen of them in the last week.

This one is not different, but what it contains is of significant interest to Zane. The escapee - who the skaa are starting to call the Survivor - is suspected to be in Luthadel.

  
~*~

  
Straff is in a foul mood in the days following Zane’s discovery, so he takes his nighttime jaunts out into the city.

One of Zane’s favorite perches in the city lies on top of the flat roofed merchant buildings that exist as a buffer between the nobles and the skaa slums. They are a perfect location to observe the comings and goings of the noble houses, and Zane thinks that some of the craftier merchants likely built them this way on purpose. For someone in business there’s nothing quite as profitable as supplying your buyer with __exactly__  what they want.

Tonight is much like the previous nights Zane has spent in the city in that the rooftops are empty. It is mildly disappointing, but other Mistborn do not leave their keeps unattended during the night so all Zane has to do is watch the rotation of the guards and count their numbers. It’s dull work, but it could serve him well later, if Straff ever plans an attack against another House.

The explosion, when it happens, shocks Zane out of his complacency. He’s burning tin, but the noise is still loud enough to leave his ears ringing from halfway across the city. Pulling out his coinpurse, Zane leaps off of the building and steelpushes himself toward the flames.

When he is close enough to see, Zane watches the manor servants pouring out of the main house to douse the fire in one of the outer buildings. It was probably a shed used to store wood or oil to keep the Lord Erikeller’s rooms warm. Zane grins despite himself; from the looks of the blaze the Lord is going to have a long, cold winter ahead of him.

He’s so engrossed in watching the circus below that he almost doesn’t notice. A man - no, not a just man, this must be the Survivor - is crouching in the shadows on a nearby rooftop, surveying the fire. He’s watching just as eagerly as Zane as the fire engulfs the storehouse of a prominent noble family with a look of intense satisfaction on his face.

_This is my prophet,_  God says. _Follow him._  

Zane waits until the fire has burned out and the Survivor is long gone before returning to Keep Venture. He doesn’t try to follow; a Mistborn capable of lighting that fire and escaping unscathed would undoubtedly be able to tell if Zane followed them, regardless of whether or not he had his coppercloud up.

That, and he doesn’t want to antagonize the man who could save him.

The Survivor stands against everything Zane hates. He stands against the oppression of the nobles, the enslavement of the skaa, the use of Mistborn as tools. Zane knows that his own insanity prevents him from rebelling on a meaningful scale, limiting him to verbally antagonizing Straff. But with someone as strong as the Survivor leading him. Well. Zane would give anything to join his cause.

  
~*~

  
It takes nearly a week of planning and observing before Zane manages to make their paths cross again.

In the interim he managed to collect stories from the skaa. The Survivor has joined the rebellion. The Survivor is going to make the Lord Ruler pay. The Survivor is going to save us all. Zane isn’t naive enough to believe everything he hears, but rumors have a way of being based in truth. If the Survivor’s hatred of nobles and drive for an attack on the Lord Ruler are anything like the skaa are saying, Zane has a way in.

He times it so that he catches the man toward the end of the night, when he should be completing his round of the city and heading back toward his hiding place for the business of the day. It also gives Zane the opportunity to rest up, in case the Survivor wants to assess him before letting him join his following.

Zane takes a breath to prepare himself. The Survivor stands at his full height on the roof of the building right in front of Zane, his mistcloak billowing around him as though daring Zane to challenge him.

Using a coin, Zane pushes off of the rooftop and lands in a crouch in front of him. He does not rise, but instead keeps his head bowed as he addresses the Survivor.

“You’re the Survivor of the Pits,” he says carefully, just loud enough to be heard by someone burning tin, “I saw your work the other night. I would appreciate the opportunity to join your cause.”

The man snorts at the title, but his stance does not relax. “I don’t trust the nobility,” he says plainly. “Why should I trust you, lordling?”

Zane raises his head to meet the gaze leveled at him as he speaks, venom dripping from his voice. “I’m no lordling. I was sired and raised in a kennel until I Snapped, and now I’m used like a tool for the benefit of the House that abused me.”

Something in the Survivor’s stance loosens a little at Zane’s vehemence, but he doesn’t relax all the way. It’s going to make Zane’s job harder even though he approves of the caution. Nobles will do anything to maintain the Lord Ruler’s favor; Zane knows that just as well as any other skaa, maybe even better because of his half-blood Mistborn status.  

“At least call me Kelsier, then,” the man says. “And while I can’t deny that your abilities as a Mistborn are useful, you must understand my concerns. Meeting you here in the middle of the night smells like a setup. My crew is made up of people I trust intimately, and I won’t expose them.”

Zane nods. Kelsier’s plan must still be in the early stages, and putting his crew at risk by introducing an unknown element at this stage would be foolhardy at best. “Let me prove it to you,” he offers. “Let me work alongside you when you go on missions requiring Mistborn. I want to be part of your plan. I want to help overthrow the Lord Ruler and see the downfall of the Houses.”

Kelsier beams at him, a full fledged smile that Zane has never seen on a skaa before. “In that case, I will meet you here three nights from now. Be ready for trouble.”

“I’ll be ready,” Zane says. Kelsier gives him a critical look, then nods and pulls out a coin from the pouch at his waist, using it as an anchor to flip off the rooftop to the street below. Zane burns tin just long enough to see which direction he leaves in, but doesn’t try to follow. He has his assignment, and Kelsier has offered him a chance to join his crew. There’s nothing else he needs.

  
~*~  
  


Three nights later Zane stands silently in the shadows atop the merchant building, waiting for Kelsier’s arrival. The night is cold, but Zane wears the heavy clothing he has adopted since joining Straff’s household in Urteau. The thick black cloth serves the dual purpose of hiding his secrets - both that he is Mistborn and the spike that still protrudes from his back - while keeping him warm in the cool night air.

Tonight he has been waiting since just after the sun dipped below the horizon, and he is glad for the extra insulation. Kelsier is not a punctual man, but that is the benefit of his station and Zane is in no position to complain.

Instead he whiles away the time tracing patterns in the stars that reside beyond the mists. There is a cluster near the zenith of the sky that shines brighter than the others, and Zane likes to think of it as a more benevolent God than the one he knows, blessing all those who can see it.

A soft plink interrupts Zane’s musings, and he turns to see Kelsier touching down on the rooftop next to him.

“You ready?” he asks, a hint of confusion crossing his face as he takes in Zane’s lack of a mistcloak.

“Always,” Zane replies.

“Excellent.” Kelsier pulls out a bundle from under his cloak and hands it to Zane. “I thought perhaps your Lord had not seen fit to give you a mistcloak,” he explains, “and you will need one for tonight’s excursion.”

Zane shrugs and wraps the cloak around himself, fastening it at his throat. It’s looser than he expected; Kelsier had obviously chosen it to fit comfortably over the clothes Zane wears rather than the slimmer fit that most Mistborn favored. He twirls in it once, testing that it is securely fastened across his shoulders.

Kelsier gives him a look of approval. “Right then, follow me.”

He leaves without further warning, Zane chasing after Kelsier as he shoots across the cityscape. Kelsier obviously expects him to be able to keep up, and Zane feels a thrill rise within him as he responds to the challenge.

Kelsier leaps through the mists as though he doesn’t have a destination in mind. The way he lets himself fall only to rise again, pushing off of a window fixture or a door sign display a level of comfort and love of the mists Zane has never seen. The mists were always a cover, a way to stay hidden; Zane had never thought that running through them could be _joyful_  like this.

After nearly an hour’s chase, Kelsier stops on top of a merchant building next to Keep Urbain. Zane lands quietly next to him and waits. Urbain is a not a major player in politics, and thus not a concern to Straff. Zane has heard him utter their name with derision and he knows their guard is limited to barely a dozen men at night, but he is unfamiliar with any strategic value they might have.

_Follow him in,_ God commands, _then kill them._

Zane ignores him and waits for Kelsier to speak.

“We’re here to gather information on Urbain’s economic situation,” Kelsier says. “We go in, we get out, no one knows we were here.”

“There’s usually a room where the Lord keeps his papers.” Zane points toward the center of the manor. “There’s often a light on in the middle room, there. That’s where the papers will be.”

“Most defensible point in the building,” Kelsier says with a small smile, voice sounding approving. “Nobles do love to feel secure. Shall we?”

Kelsier jumps without waiting for a reply, and Zane follows after him. They pull hard against the metal spikes on top of the outer wall, using them to fling themselves up into the mists. Zane lets himself savor the brief moment of vertigo he gets from hanging at the pinnacle of the jump before dropping a coin to bring him to a controlled descent into the courtyard below.

Instead of using the metal decorations on the manor walls to assault the study from the outside, Kelsier instead signals Zane to follow him into a dilapidated guard post by the storehouse. Zane remembers the storehouse at Keep Erikeller going up in flames and feels his lips twitch upward. He expands the movement, trying on a smile to see if it feels the same way it looks on Kelsier.

It doesn’t, but that’s okay.

The storehouse connects to the basement of the house proper by way of an underground tunnel. It’s meant to allow servants to access the supplies during a house war or heavy ashfall without exposing themselves to any outside harm, but has clearly fallen into disrepair during recent years.

Once in the basement Kelsier leads the way upward, pausing to listen with tin and bronze as they ascend each floor. Zane knows that Straff keeps guards patrolling inside Keep Venture as well as on the walls during the night, but it appears that Lord Urbain doesn’t have the resources to do so.

They reach the study without difficulty, but the locked door poses a problem.

“We could remove its hinges,” Zane suggests. He doubts that would remain within the mission parameters of remaining unnoticed, but it would get them the information.

Kelsier shakes his head. “Watch, this is useful.” He focuses on the lock, and Zane watches the look of intense concentration on his face as he begins to slowly, __slowly__  push and pull the metal gears inside the lock until it clicks open.

“How long did it take you to learn that?” comes out of Zane’s mouth before he has a chance to censor it. He doesn’t wince at the slip, but it’s a near thing. He’s supposed to be convincing Kelsier that he would be an __asset__  to the cause, not staring in wonder like an awe struck child.

Luckily Kelsier doesn’t seem to mind the question. “I crushed more than a few locks before I got the hang of it,” he says with a shrug, “but that opens the doors too, it’s just less subtle. The trick is to nudge the pieces into place rather than really pushing or pulling on them too much.”

“Thank you,” Zane says quietly, grateful for Kelsier’s kindness.

Kelsier nods and leads the way into the room. The desk is seated in the middle of the floor, much like the layout of Straff’s personal study. Nobility always did like to copy those at the top, so Zane can’t really bring himself to be surprised. He moves confidently toward the desk without waiting for a signal from Kelsier, wanting to try the trick Kelsier showed him on any drawer that might be locked.

“Careful,” Kelsier cautions. “There may be some unpleasant surprises waiting for us if we don’t do this right.”

“I’ll be careful,” Zane acknowledges, running his hands along the seams in the wood to check for weak points. Not finding any, he refocuses his attention on the drawers. Unlike the desk in Straff’s study, there are no locks or protection on the desk itself so accessing the papers proves to be simple.

The huge stack of papers inside reveals a different problem: the business dealings of House Urbain require __significantly__  more paperwork than the atium mining that sustains House Venture.

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Zane asks, scooting back to let Kelsier see the truly staggering amount of information they will have to sort through to get answers.

Kelsier hums softly to himself, and Zane wants to grind his teeth. He would, if Kelsier wouldn’t hear it. “We’re looking for letters or notices from the Canton of Resources,” he says eventually. “They’re always the best informed about monetary issues, and if business is bad they would be in contact.”

Zane doubts that any of the ten high noble families of Luthadel are in such dire straights as to have to worry about the Canton of Resources, but he holds his tongue. Kelsier has access to information he doesn’t, and has likely already taken steps to dismantle the foundation of several of the great houses.

Sifting through papers bores Zane and times seems to drag. Kelsier appears to be immune to the drudgery, a delighted look gracing his face as he flips through page after page of numbers. Determined not to fall behind, Zane focuses on the sheet in front of him, flaring his tin to sharpen his eyesight.

_Tap, tap, tap._ __

Zane straightens up in a rush, flaring tin to get a better grasp of where the sound is coming from.

_Tap, tap, thump._ __

The sound stops right outside the door. Zane stands.

“Hazekillers,” he mutters to Kelsier, too quietly to be overheard by anyone without tin. “They’re right outside.”

Kelsier looks remarkably unsurprised, and Zane begins to wonder if he set this up.

“Time to go then,” Kelsier says, setting the papers back on the desk. Despite his earlier claim Kelsier makes no attempt to reorganize the desk the way it was when they arrived, although Zane supposes with hazekillers outside the door the cat is already out of the bag.

“Put up your hood,” Kelsier instructs, doing so himself.

Zane does, and they move in tandem toward the window. Kelsier flips the wooden latch and pushes the panes open, only to jump backwards as three arrows thunk down on the ledge.

The obsidian tips gleam to Zane’s tin enhanced eyes, and Kelsier slams the window shut as three more arrows crack against the glass.

“Door it is, then,” Kelsier says, his cheerful tone a bizarre counterpoint to the situation at hand. “You up for it?”

Zane shrugs and rolls his shoulders, not really seeing how he has any choice. “I’m ready.”

Kelsier shoots toward the door in a pewter enhanced sprint, and Zane waits a moment before following after him, readying his coin bag.

In the hall three hazekillers rush toward Kelsier, two hold wooden shields to block coins while the third moves to attack. Behind him stand three more men blocking his escape down the hall. Kelsier falls back, drawing the three attackers toward him and clearing the door. Zane uses the opportunity to sneak out and shoot a handful of coins at the hazekillers’ unprotected backs.

Three down, three to go.

Zane readies his pewter and pushes new coins at the ceiling, angling them so that they will ricochet down on the hazekillers, bypassing their shields. They’re well trained enough to angle their defenses to catch most of the spray, but Zane hears a grunt of pain from at least one coin hitting home.

A hand on his shoulder turns him around and pulls him away from the combat, and Zane finds himself sprinting full tilt down the corridor away from the hazekillers. Frustration and a sense of incompleteness settles around him at leaving a fight unfinished, but Zane knows this isn’t the time to demand an explanation. Instead he follows Kelsier as he leads the way through the halls of the keep, taking turns that put them in new territory and eventually spit them out on the other side of the manor.

Kelsier pauses once they pass through the front door, and Zane quickly scans the ground walls for any sign of guards. The wall seems as lifeless as it did when they arrived, and Zane can see Kelsier quickly come to the same conclusion.

A second later Kelsier is off again, pulling himself up into the mists. Zane follows close behind, determine to have his answers before the night is over.

Once they are safely half a district away, Kelsier stops on one of the buildings and turns to face Zane.

“Why did you run?” Zane asks, edging in his question in before Kelsier can say anything to distract him. “We could have taken them easily.”

“We could have,” Kelsier agrees. “But did you take a good look at them?”

Zane isn’t sure how to respond to that. “They were hazekillers.”

“Poorly trained hazekillers, and very poorly informed,” Kelsier says, and Zane has to agree with that assessment. Planning an assault without knowing how many Mistborn are there to begin with is incompetence at its finest. “Also soot stained around the creases of their eyes. They’re skaa, probably blackmailed into service of Urbain after he couldn’t afford the well trained minor noblemen lords like him usually use as hazekillers.”

Zane nods awkwardly. If Kelsier is right the situation of those men is little better than his own, but he can’t muster up the empathy he can see loud and clear on Kelsier’s face.

“They shouldn’t be able to do that,” Zane says, without much feeling behind it. He agrees with the sentiment in principle, but his life has one reminder after another of the stark reality that this is __exactly__  how the world works. Nobles can do whatever they want to the skaa - and half-skaa - and damn the consequences.

“Exactly.”

The way Kelsier agrees, with a fire shining in his eyes, makes Zane realize just how serious he is. Kelsier takes the world the way it is, but he is going to remake it the way it _should_ be.

And Zane is going to be there to see it.  
  


~*~

  
Three weeks and five outings later, Zane starts feeling restless. He enjoys meeting with Kelsier and getting to practice his allomancy in ways Straff had never even dreamed of, but he wants to _contribute_ , wants to be included in Kelsier’s plans.

Kelsier insists that what they’re doing has value to him, value to his operation, but Zane can’t see how. The information Zane has been able to give him from their intelligence gathering has been inconsequential at best. The time tables of barges on the canals and food production of plantations in the country is hardly useful for a strike against the Lord Ruler.

“Zane Venture,” Kelsier’s voice says from behind him. “Took a while to track down your surname.”

Despite the flash of fear that shoots through him when Kelsier says _that_ name, Zane can’t help but be impressed. “I’ll never be a _Venture _,__ ” Zane spits. “Not even if Straff decides to recognize his bastards.”

“I understand that,” Kelsier says mildly. “But you’re aware of my feelings toward nobles by now, so why wouldn’t you mention you had access to the most powerful House in Luthadel? Was it to see if I could figure it out?”

Zane says nothing, just looks at the ground. Kelsier can think what he wants, but Zane would rather he not know exactly how ashamed he is of his lineage.

“It’s not as though I can fault you for that,” Kelsier allows, taking Zane’s silence as confirmation. “While the information we’ve gathered has been a great help to myself and Yeden, it can’t have escaped your notice that they were all errands I could have run alone.”

“Obviously,” Zane says, filing away the name Yeden to follow up on later. It was painfully clear that Kelsier had been testing him over the last few weeks: both his loyalty and his skill. Had Kelsier not been able to run those missions by himself, then he was not the Mistborn who would lead Zane to freedom. But he could and he was, and even God had quieted in approval when he followed Kelsier’s lead.

“They were probably errands you could have run alone too, if you knew what to look for, and now I’d like you to do some information gathering on your own.” Zane can’t help himself from leaning forward slightly, eager for the opportunity to _finally_  have an active role in furthering Kelsier’s plans. “I intend to take down the nobility, and one of the easiest ways to do that is to destroy the highest standard in the economy. That means I need to know about the Lord Ruler’s atium.”

“Atium,” Zane repeats. “You need atium reports?”

“The details of the reports,” Kelsier confirms. “How frequently does atium leave the Pits? How large are the shipments? Where __exactly__  do they arrive at Kredik Shaw? How much goes to the nobility and how much does the Lord Ruler keep for himself? To collapse the atium economy first we need to understand how it works and where the weak points are.”

Kelsier’s approach makes a surprising amount of sense, but is less direct than Zane expected. “I can tell you that the Venture family is in charge of the Pits,” Zane says. “Getting you information on it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Venture runs the Pits?” Kelsier asks, his voice heavier than Zane has ever heard it. “That’s interesting. But useful for you.” He pauses for a moment and considers. “I am going to be in and out of the city in the upcoming weeks, so I will arrange a drop point for any information you are able to find. Put in as much detail as you can. I’ll be able to check in maybe once a week, if you can get away from Venture without arousing suspicion.”

“Straff is a very intelligent man, but he does not concern himself with the personal lives of his playthings. I’ll be able to get away without any problem.”

“Excellent. Welcome to the crew.” Zane pretends the words don’t have him glowing with pride.

  
~*~

  
Straff calls Zane the next day. He ignores Zane when he enters the sitting room, not glancing away from his work. Zane wishes Straff would dispense with the displays of dominance, but he supposes it’s the other man’s way of assuring himself that he really is in control of his Mistborn.

Even though he’s not.

So Zane waits him out, not giving Straff the satisfaction of being able to express displeasure should Zane interrupt him.

“Ah, Zane,” Straff says at length. “You’re here, good. I have a job for you.”

Zane refrains from commenting at how close Straff’s tone comes to patronizing. “What is the job, Father?” he asks instead.

“I want to you to follow Teniert. He has approached me regarding a trade agreement several times in the last month and I want to know why he’s so insistent. You are relieved of your guard duties for the next three days in order to discover who else his House is doing business with.”

“I will follow Lord Teniert until I find information on his business. But, Father, this assignment could take more than three days. The Canton of Resource requires appointments to witness business deals and tax requests, and even nobles like Teniert will have to adhere to their schedule. He may not meet with them in the next three days.”

“So find out when his meeting is,” Straff says, as though the solution should be both simple and obvious. “If you succeed, I’ll give you some atium.”

Zane swallows hard. Straff had given him a single bead of atium when he arrived in Luthadel, claiming it was for emergencies. It’s gone though; used up one night while chasing Kelsier around the city when Zane was too curious and too high on the thrill of allomancy to exercise his regular caution. Is it possible that Straff knows the atium is gone and he’s baiting Zane? Or is he offering atium as a reward for some other reason.

“I’ll do my best,” Zane says firmly, waiting for Straff’s nod of dismissal before turning and stalking out of the room.

Meeting with Straff always rubs Zane the wrong way. The man no real power over him now that he follows Kelsier, but he can’t afford to upset Straff because Zane’s position in the Venture household has advantages he can’t afford to lose. Despite that, Straff is constantly making power plays, _constantly_ manipulating Zane into viewing him as superior, and it’s wearing down at Zane’s defenses.

_Kill him,_ God says. _Kill him and all his fancy words will become lies._

And Zane wants to. He __wants__ to listen to God and kill Straff, but Straff is still too useful to dispose of. Instead he lets the thought simmer in his head for a moment, gaining traction until he can feel the way Straff would struggle in his hands before he crushed his throat and let his body drop to the ground. The image is cathartic, and Zane breathes out as he lets it go, promising himself _later, later, just as soon as he outlives his usefulness._

Until then, he has a noble to tail.

  
~*~

  
The atium economy, as it turns out, is not entirely controlled by Straff.

That fact causes Zane more than a few headaches while he tries to sort out what goes where when to put in his report for Kelsier. The easiest way to find out exactly what happens to the atium would be to break into the Lord Ruler’s estate and figure out what he does once he gets it. Unfortunately, that also involved _breaking into the Lord Ruler’s estate_  and Zane has not yet reached that level of insanity.

The next best option is to pose as a guard for one of the shipments of atium that goes from the Pits to Kredik Shaw. Zane might be able to manipulate Straff into putting him on guard duty for the atium shipment, but it would be much easier to just go and do it himself. Unfortunately, it would interfere with his duties guarding Keep Venture, and the next shipment isn’t due to leave until __after__ his reprieve for stalking Teniert are up, so he’ll have to come up with some way to dodge his guard work.

Zane barely stops himself from sighing, and turns back to focus on his current assignment.

It doesn’t help that Lord Teniert is the most boring noble Zane has ever laid eyes on. The man has literally sat in his tower at his desk _all day._  Even the paperwork is dull - expenses for dresses and food and ‘charitable deductions’ from the soup kitchens he runs for skaa. The three Teniert daughters must be gearing up to find husbands during the upcoming season in Luthadel, because their father has focused on nothing else all day.

On the bright side, at least Zane knows that Teniert’s finances aren’t what he’s made them out to be for Straff. The cuts he’s making on the papers in front of him indicate a need to maximize image while minimizing costs, and Zane has never met a noble cynical enough to do that during good times.

So Teniert is pushing for business deals to bolster his own dwindling funds. Nothing Straff didn’t alredy suspect.

This time Zane does sigh out loud, keeping it quiet enough not to be overheard. It’s going to be a long day.

  
~*~

  
Zane drops off a letter for Kelsier containing the time tables for atium shipments and briefly outlining his plan before he leaves for the Pits. He figures that if worst comes to worst and he runs into an overly curious Inquisitor or the Lord Ruler himself, Kelsier will want to know what happened to him.

Not that he’s planning on getting himself killed - no matter what God suggests he do.

A week ago Zane snuck into the head of the guard’s office during the night and rewrote the assignments from Straff. He usually sends at least one of his trusted house staff to oversee the shipments of atium, so all Zane had to do was change the name on the assignment. It’s a job no one likes because it pulls them away from their family for an entire week, so Zane knows that no one will question then changes.

He’s also arranged for a few official days off from Straff to follow Teniert’s steward on a trip out of the city. In truth Teniert’s steward is still bustling around Keep Teniert seeing to the business of the household, but Straff has no way of knowing that.

The four days Zane has bought himself will have to be enough. Normally the Pits would be several days’ journey outside of Luthadel, but for a Mistborn pewter dragging, Zane can arrive in just under a day. He’ll have to go the speed of the convoy on the way back, but it should still fit into his timeframe.

Checking his supplies of metal, he sets off.

The night seems to go on forever, and despite the exhaustion Zane feels after hours of running exclusively on pewter, he still can’t suppress the twinge of excitement he gets from using allomancy. In the end, that’s what keeps him standing when he arrives at the atium storehouse by the Pits as the sky lightens from black to gray.

“What’re you doing here so early?” a man asks, poking his head out of the building. His dull uniform marks him as a freeman rather than a skaa prisoner. “Mists have barely left.”

“Lord Venture likes us to be prompt,” Zane answers, modeling his tone after that of the older guards at the keep.

“Aye,” the man replies. “You’re his personal representative then?”

“Petrys, reporting for duty,” Zane says, hand coming up in a mock salute.

“Justan,” the man introduces himself. “And we don’t stand on ceremony here, lad. Just come in and wait for the rest of the crew to arrive.”

Zane does as he suggests and steps into the building. “Do you have anything warm to drink?” he asks. “I’ve been traveling for the last few days and could use something homemade.”

Justan chuckles, “I’m afraid we don’t have anything like what you’re looking for,” he says. “but I could heat up some tea for you.”

“That would be lovely,” Zane says. “Thank you.”

The tea only takes a few minutes to heat up, and Zane is left to sit and wait for the rest of the crew to arrive with his steaming cup of tea. The scent is pleasant and Zane finds himself starting to drift as his body reminds him of all the problems with pewter dragging. He sighs slightly, figuring it’s something Petrys the guard would do, and slips some pewter powder into his tea. He won’t be able to properly come down and recover until after he is back in Luthadel, but the information he gets will be worth it.

Nearly an hour later another man comes through the front door of the building, stomping his boots to knock the mud off of them.

“Hello there,” he says, spying Zane waiting in one of the chairs. “I’m Karis; the guy in charge of the shipments. You’re new. Lord Venture send you?”

“Yes, sir,” Zane says, rising out of his seat and offering Karis his hand. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for the next few days.”

Karis laughs, and Zane is puzzled by his reaction. “Looks like,” the man agrees. “Lord Venture never could stand to trust the people he assigned to do the job; always needs to have someone he has leverage over here to watch the rest of us bachelors.”

Understanding flashes through Zane as he realizes why Straff always sends family men out to the Pits.

“You look a little young for a wife and kids though,” Karis continues, oblivious to Zane’s realization. “So what’s he got on you?”

“My sister,” Zane says, briefly imagining the dead eyed girls he lived with in Urteau. “Dad died in a training accident, mom died in childbirth, so I’m the only one she’s got.”

Kairs shook his head sympathetically. “That sucks, man. Still, welcome to the team. The obligators are finishing up going over the shipment, so we’re going to head over to the ministry building to pick it up. I’ll show you where it is, and we’ll have you back with your sister as soon as we can, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zane agrees, standing up to follow Karis down the road. He hadn’t known that the obligators counted the atium before (and presumably after) it was shipped, but it made sense. The Lord Ruler likes to keep a close eye on his nobles, and it made sense that he’d want to keep a close eye on his assets too. If he could get away without suffering repercussions, Straff would gleefully skim off the top if he thought it would give him an advantage in all the political posturing between the Houses.

The Steel Ministry building towers over them as they approach, only slightly smaller than the Luthadel branch. Zane makes a mental note to tell Kelsier, although the man probably remembers from when he escaped from the pits.

A low ranking obligator - one with sparse facial tattoos - greets Zane and Karis. Zane remembers seeing higher ranking obligators visit Keep Venture for various functions. In theory all obligators directly serve the Lord Ruler, but high ranking obligators are from high ranking Houses and Zane knows how hard those roots are to escape.

“The shipment and armed escort are waiting by the eastern door,” the obligator says, ignoring formalities in favor of getting to the point. “I’ll lead you over and witness your departure.”

“Thanks,” Karis replies stiffly, motioning for Zane to come with him as he follows the obligator.

The caravan by the eastern door is unimpressive. Two horse drawn carts and eight lightly armed men hardly appear to be a worthy target for robbers, which Zane suspects is the goal. Trust Straff to cut costs by using subterfuge rather than ensure a safe delivery with a proper guard.

Zane notes a distinct absence of blue lines when he burns iron; these men have no metal on them and a quick check with bronze reveals no allomantic pulses. The men are not carrying any metal weapons, so Zane assumes that they are hazekillers, probably highly trained. Zane himself feels naked with only his vials on him, but he knows that Straff has never sent an allomancer to guard the atium before, and he doesn’t plan on letting anyone here know that he is any different.

Karis moves to the head of the assemblage and exchanges a few words with the man holding the reins before motioning for Zane to come over.

“This is Wellan. He’ll be your partner for this trip.” With that Karis slaps Wellan on the should and leaves, walking back over to the obligator to get the caravan witnessed before they can be on their way.

Zane turns back to Wellan. The man is a good decade older than Zane and has series of round puckered scars disappearing under his sleeve on the arm he’s using to hold the reins. His face is worn from exposure to the elements and he has a slightly ragged look to him. All in all, he’s not a man Zane would want to be at cross purposes with.

“Hi, I’m Petrys,” Zane says amiably, extending his hand. Wellan shakes his head at Zane and turns back to the horses.

_Kill him,_ God whispers.

_This,_  Zane thinks, _is going to be a_ very _long trip._

  
~*~

  
By the time the walls of Luthadel appear to normal eyes, Zane is more than ready to never see Wellan or Karis or any goddamn atium ever again.

His time with Kelsier must have softened him up and left him expecting conversation on missions, because the stony faced silence that greeted him at every meal and every watch and every pit stop on this goddamn trip is starting to drive him crazy.

Well, more crazy, because God hadn’t shut up _once_ on the entire trip. Every time someone rounded the carts it was _kill him,_ or __t_ his would be easier if he were dead, _which was unhelpful to start with and downright annoying with how hard it was to ignore the voice.

God rarely spoke when Kelsier was around, and Zane really _really_ misses the silence.

They approach the city from the northwest, then circle around to the north to enter through the Tin Gate. The route both avoids going through Fountain Square - a hotspot for pickpockets when it isn’t being used for executions - and passes right by Keep Venture so that Straff can visually verify that the atium is arriving at Kredik Shaw.

Zane makes sure to stay in the shadow of the wagon and keep his head down until Keep Venture is out of sight.

Eventually they pass the headquarters for the Canton of Orthodoxy and arrive at the outer wall of Kredik Shaw. Even in the daytime the massive spires loom over the skyline, intimidating and confusing in their design. Zane shudders slightly as they pass through the gate under the scrutiny of skaa guards, knowing that he’s walking right into the heart of the Lord Ruler’s domain.

Karis leads the way now as they walk with the carts, taking them around the inner wall to another gate with more guards. Once inside the second gate Karis motions to Wellan and he pulls Zane back, stopping and letting Karis continue on. Zane notes that everyone else has stopped as well; only Wellan and Karis continue on leading the horses to their final destination.

Zane watches them with tin until they turn a corner and pass out of sight, then he starts keeping track of time.

He waits with the other men for nearly an hour before Karis and Wellan return.

“Delivery complete,” Wellan says.

“Good job, everyone,” Karis says before turning specifically to Zane. “You did good too, kid. Tell Straff that we’d be happy to have you with us again.”

Zane will do no such thing. “Yes, sir,” he says obediently.

Karis nods, apparently satisfied. “Go get some rest, we head back at dawn.”

Zane scatters with the rest of the crew at the dismissal and goes to write his report for Kelsier.

  
~*~

  
The night after he gets back from his journey with the atium convoy, Zane leaves his report at the dead drop for Kelsier and goes to the rooftops to find some solitude.

He chooses a building in the commercial district near the skaa markets. The area has closed down for the day and Zane knows the skaa don’t dare set foot outside at night. Atop the roof where he can stare at the stars it’s almost peaceful.

Soft footfalls followed by the _swish_  of a dagger through empty air draw Zane out of his quiet enjoyment. He rolls to his feet, burning tin and bronze to figure out where the dueling Mistborn are. He plans to stay out of any conflict tonight, but watching the fighting style of potential opponents never hurt anyone.

The night is quiet again, and Zane can’t detect anything with his bronze. He flares tin, listening for the near silent footfalls of pewter enhanced Mistborn running through the city.

It takes more time than he expects, but Zane eventually pinpoints their location and heads that way himself, dropping his coin bag so that they won’t see him with iron or steel and keeping to the streets to stay out of their sight.

What he doesn’t expect is to see Kelsier nearly suspended in midair as he gets into a steelpushing contest with a smaller cloaked figure. Zane would help if Kelsier needed it, but he clearly has the upper hand due to his greater size even though he doesn’t have his feet planted on the ground.

As Zane watches the smaller figure flares steel to push the coins at Kelsier, but it still isn’t enough. The coins rush toward them, pushing back their hood and revealing a girl slightly younger than Zane.

She’s gorgeous, her hair short for a woman but cut to flatter her sharp jawline. She stands relaxed even though Kelsier just flung her coins back at her, and she glares at him as he lowers himself to the ground and walks over to her.

“Good job tonight, Vin,” he says and Zane flares tin to hear more. “You need to stop getting into pushing contests with Mistings and Mistborn bigger than you; you aren’t going to win.”

“I know,” Vin says, clearly frustrated. “It just _feels_  like I should be able to.”

Kelsier smiles and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Allomancy isn’t __all__ about how it feels,” Kelsier chuckles. “Although I admit that is a good portion of it.”

Vin huffs and any tension that was present earlier vanishes. Zane stays still, not wanting to give himself away by making any noise.

“Will you be able to train with me again tomorrow?” Vin asks. Her eyes widen just a hair and in that Zane knows she is a kindred spirit. The wary way she holds herself after asking for a favor screams that she is unused to being around someone stronger than her who will not hurt her. Like Zane, she’s someone hardened by life but making the best of it and working toward a better life by following Kelsier.

“Not tomorrow, or the rest of the week,” Kelsier says, shrugging. “I have errands to run outside the city. I’ll send Ham and Breeze to drill you on your pewter and brass though.”

Vin rolls her eyes, surprising Zane by showing so much irreverence to Kelsier. He doesn’t seem to mind though, his smile simply turning into a light laugh as he takes in her expression. “Don’t give me that face, Vin. You know pewter and brass are both important metals, and Ham and Breeze are experts.”

“I know,” Vin says. “And it’s better than lessons with Sazed.”

“Don’t shirk your studies with Sazed,” Kelsier chastises gently. “It’s important for you to know about noble politics before we release you into the wild.”

“It’s just so _boring_ ,” Vin says emphatically. Zane can’t help but agree; political posturing and manipulation are the worst schemes to study, but being caught in one by surprise is even worse.

“Let’s get you home then, so you can stay awake during Sazed’s next lesson,” Kelsier teases, putting his hood back up. Vin groans and follows suit, raising her hood and dropping a coin to follow Kelsier across the rooftops as he leaves, presumably heading back to wherever the crew stays when they aren’t actively wrecking havoc on the city.

Zane waits until the light __plinks__  of coin on stone fade off into the distance before moving. He renews his resolution to work with Kelsier and fully gain his trust, if just to get to meet his crew.

Well, to meet Vin. Properly.

  
~*~

  
“There’s a new noble in Fellise I want you to spy on for me,” Straff says, folding his hands calmly over the desk in front of him. “Renoux, from the Farmost Dominance. He’s come to Fellise with his niece to raise his family up ostensibly by trading weapons. Weapons! As though those are actually used in either the north or the south. Find out what he’s hiding in that Fellise villa of his that he doesn’t want anyone else knowing about.”

“I will head to Fellise today, Father,” Zane says. “But it is a long enough trip that I will require several days to acquire the information you need.”

“Done,” Straff says, waving Zane off. “Just find out what he’s really doing in the Central Dominance.”

Zane bows - not pointing out that airing dirty laundry and locating financial plans are two very different tasks - and sees himself out.

Normally Straff wouldn’t have bothered with small fry like Renoux; a noble coming in from the country to make it or break it in Luthadel was a common enough occurrence. The weapons trade must be what drew Straff’s interests, what with the tensions rising between the prominent noble Houses. Zane doesn’t understand all the intricacies - doesn’t have to since he knows Straff will ensure he stays on top of the pile, so long as Kelsier leaves him a pile to stay on top of - but he thinks the whole thing is rather frivolous. The nobles compete for… what, exactly? The affection of the Lord Ruler, who pits them against each other so that no coalition ever becomes strong enough to challenge him? More money than their vaults can store? Enough atium to make them a target? None of the rewards are worth the cost of business, in Zane’s opinion.

But Straff doesn’t care about his opinion and Kelsier is embroiled in other difficulties, so Zane packs a small bag and heads to Fellise.

As it turns out, traveling to Fellise is both easier and more enjoyable than Zane expected. He discovered a line of metal spikes driven into the ground at regular intervals. Two more sparsely populated spike lines on either side of the main one allow for course corrections once Zane pushes himself into the air above the main line.

Zane waits until nightfall to take full advantage of the spikeway, not wanting to be seen during the day. He doesn’t encounter any other Mistborn on the way, but he did not expect to. The route will likely not become well traveled until the height of the Season when there was a ball nearly every night. Of course, it might also become crowded with assassins before then, if the rising tensions become high enough.

With Straff’s description and the map he studied before leaving, Zane has no trouble locating Keep Renoux. It’s modest by noble standards, not large enough to consider hosting any balls, but still respectable and able to hold an entire family and their staff.

The walls around the mansion are low enough for Zane to jump with one pewter powered  leap, but he waits for the cover of darkness before trying to enter the property. His experience spying for both Straff and Kelsier in Luthadel has shown him that nobles are paranoid creatures, and he would be a fool not to use every advantage that he has.

No guards or groundskeepers appear once he lands on the inside of the wall, so Zane seizes the opportunity to locate a still-lit drawing room and settle himself on the roof outside. Using tin to enhance his ears, he can hear the conversation inside with only mild distortion as the sound travels through the glass of the window.

“...told you Yeden wasn’t ready to lead the army.” someone says from inside. “We should have kept someone there to make sure he followed the plan.”

“It’s his army,” a second voice points out.

“They’re your army. Don’t front, Ham,” says yet another voice, addressing the second. “You just don’t want to admit it because you don’t want to feel responsible.”

“They’re just as much your army as they are mine, Breeze,” the second voice - Ham - returns. “Who was the one recruiting them and sending them to Yeden? That certainly wasn’t me.”

“It wasn’t me either,” Breeze shoots back. “I merely encouraged them to go, I never gave any grand speeches.”

Zane’s interest in the conversation increases dramatically as Kelsier’s calm, reasonable voice interrupts the arguing. “They were Yeden’s army, and now they are our army, at least what’s left of them. We can still make this plan work. The nobility is already mistrustful of each other and Vin’s rumors have been adding oil to the flame, I have a source who has given me details about the transport of atium from the Pits to Kredik Shaw, and we still have both enough talent and enough of an army to draw the guards away from the city for long enough for our plan to work.”

“Yes, yes, Kells,” Breeze says, and Zane gets the impression that he’s waving his hand dismissively in front of his face the way Straff does when bothered with something inconsequential. “I’m not saying we won’t succeed, we’re the best thieves in the realm - but what about _after_  we succeed. With Yeden gone the Rebellion has no leader, and with no leader there is no one to hand off the reins to after we take the city.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Kelsier says, equally as dismissive as Breeze. “The Rebellion has lost leaders in the past, but it still managed to persist.”

“The Rebellion has always had time to find someone to step up and take the position,” the first voice says. Zane wants to know who this voice of reason is, and how much he knows about some of Kelsier’s more daring outings. “They don’t have that now.”

“Then we need to alter our plans slightly,” Kelsier says, “We need a new target and as Vin has suggested, the Pits are an excellent choice. They’re close enough to draw away the Luthadel garrison, and they’re important enough for the Lord Ruler to send the garrison immediately when they are attacked.”

“The Pits are already well guarded, Kells,” the voice of reasons says again. “And we only have two thousand men. Will they be enough.”

“Yes,” Zane says from the roof, loudly enough to be heard inside the room. Silence descends and everyone except Kelsier is staring at him in shock when he uses allomancy to open the window and slip inside. He spies Vin sitting quietly in the corner, and feels his lips twitch upward at the corners in an imitation of a smile. “The Pits are guarded by five hundred men. One hundred highly trained hazekillers and four hundred men with experience deterring riots. Straff Venture manages the Pits and he relies largely on their reputation and secrecy to keep them safe.”

“Thank you, Zane,” Kelsier says with a bright smile before turning back to the rest of his crew. “Zane has been working with me for the last few months gathering intel around Luthadel. He’s the Mistborn who brought us the shipping information on atium out of the Pits.”

The gathered men nod in understanding while Vin frowns at him, obviously displeased.

“That’s all good and well, Kells, but what’s he doing here _now?_  You would have told us he were coming if you invited him.” Zane recognizes the voice as belonging to Breeze. The man himself is short and a little rounder than Zane expected a member of Kelsier’s crew to be. Breeze looks like he would fit in among the nobility just as well as he does in this den of thieves though, and Zane can understand the value in that.

“I would have, but I’d say it’s probably time he met you lot anyway. With all the changes we’re making to the plan, now is an ideal time to introduce him.” Kelsier finishes addressing Breeze and turns to look at Zane, inviting him to explain his presence at their meeting.

“Straff,” Zane says, spitting the name out with all the derision he can muster, “wants to know more about Lord Renoux, so he sent me here to spy.”

“And what exactly are you going to tell him,” Ham asks. “We can’t rightly have him knowing about us, can we.”

“Straff has bigger problems at hand,” Zane says dismissively. “I can feed him a lie about Renoux stocking armories in Tathingdwen for a potential revolt in the Terris Dominance and he will believe me.”

“You didn’t tell us he had a sense of humor, Kells,” Breeze says with a snort of laughter. “Just don’t get too outlandish with your lies. You wouldn’t want to lose your credibility.”

Zane gives Breeze a full toothed grin. “Straff does not believe me capable of lying to him.”

“If that’s true, that’s good for you,” Breeze allows. “But in my experience nobles tend to be more suspicious than they let on, especially those in high positions like Straff Venture.”

Zane shrugs and looks to Kelsier; he doesn’t really care what Breeze thinks about his relationship with Straff. He’s far more interested in what Kelsier has planned next. He knows that stealing the atium and killing the Lord Ruler is the ultimate goal. If they are planning to attack the Pits of Hathsin they must be nearing the end.

“Either way, we need to accelerate the start of the house war,” Kelsier says, and Zane felt a warm glow of satisfaction wash over him. He had figured that Kelsier was behind the growing distrust among the nobles, and probably even House Hasting’s retreat from Luthadel, but to know Kelsier was angling for an all out house war? That made everything worth it.

Even Straff would feel the effects of an all out war, and he’d call on Zane to fight it for him. To be his general and lead his Mistings, as the only Mistborn in the Venture household. And Zane would take his Mistings and take his men, leaving him high and dry for the vultures.

_Join the house war,_  God says, _kill the nobility._

I will, Zane thinks, I absolutely will.

“What can I do to help?” Zane asks, and Kelsier beams at him.

  
~*~

  
Zane takes to spending his free time around Keep Renoux, feeding his father a string of lies from Kelsier’s cover story to keep him happy with his progress spying on the family. Straff insists that Zane return to Keep Venture every night to guard against other Mistborn assassins, but leaves his daytime activities up to Zane’s discretion.

Watching the members of Kelsier’s crew of thieves come and go to leave messages and have meetings. Occasionally he drops down to join in the discussion, but mostly he prefers to listen from a distance.

People tend to be more honest when they don’t know they have an audience.

But despite Kelsier’s crew being made up of thieves, they are remarkably honest and caring men. Even Breeze and Ham, who Zane pegged as having a rivalry from that first conversation, express a deep concern for each other when not in the same room together.

Caring and compassion between working partners is new to Zane, and he finds it both interesting and confusing. That seems to be the general attitude toward Kelsier as well, and it gives Zane a sense of security to see it. All of them are like Kelsier in one aspect or another, and all of them are trying to live up to his expectations and ideals.  Zane doubts any of them will ever emulate him successfully, but Kelsier seems to approve of their efforts nonetheless.

Zane sits on an awning, swinging his legs lightly as he watches Ham run through forms with a wooden staff in the courtyard below. His movements look natural and unenhanced; if Zane weren’t a Mistborn himself he isn’t sure he’d be able to recognize that Ham is burning pewter.

Still, it’s fascinating to watch, and Zane likes to think that observing Ham teaches him both more about how to best use his own pewter and how to predict the attack patterns of garrison guards and Pewterarms.

As he watches, quiet sounds of conversation drift up to him from below, and Zane burns tin to listen in when he recognizes Kelsier’s voice.

“...and you’ll make several appearances to the skaa, leading them to the weapon stores and urging them to take to the streets. The most important thing here is that no one find my bones. Even once you have finished, the people will need to believe it was really me who appeared and not someone acting in my stead.”

“I understand,” says Lord Renoux. “I will fulfill the Contract.”

Kandra. Of course, _of course_ Kelsier had a kandra working for him. No noble would willingly cooperate with Kelsier’s mad scheme to dismantle the system that kept them in power, so of course he had to get a kandra to do the job.

Beyond that, Zane realizes where the conversation is heading. If Kelsier is asking to kandra to wear _his own bones,_ that means Kelsier is planning to die. The rebellion will die without him, of that Zane is sure. And the kandra will go back to wherever it is kandra go as the Contract will end when Kelsier dies.

Unless Kelsier planned to die when he made the Contract, and is passing it off to someone else.

Zane strains his ears to hear more.

“After I’m gone I want you to stay. Protect Vin. She’s likely going to be resistant to the idea, but she’s going to need all the help she can get. I’m afraid I’ve made her something of a target, and she’s going to have the hardest job once the Lord Ruler falls.”

“You know I will protect Mistress Vin,” the kandra says. “It is in the Contract.”

“Yes, but I think that she will try to release you from the Contract,” Kelsier says.

“She cannot do that,” the kandra informs Kelsier. “You paid for my Contract and my Contract is with you, her wishes do not factor in to my orders.”

“I suppose so,” Kelsier muses. “Even so, I am concerned. I will figure something out, and inform you of my decision before the end. Thank you, OreSeur.”

There is silence followed by the shuffling of feet and the closing of a door. Taking a gamble, Zane hopes that OreSeur left the the room as he drops onto the balcony. He slips in the unsecured door to where Kelsier is frowning at him.

“How much of that did you hear?” he asks.

“You plan on having the kandra wear your bones,” Zane says. “You intend to leave us leaderless before the plan is complete.”

“Not entirely leaderless,” Kelsier corrects. “Though your general impression is correct.”

“Why?”

Kelsier smiles as he answers. “We cannot take the city alone, let alone hold it. None of our plans or schemes can work if we are the only ones who are willing to risk our lives for it. We _need_  the skaa to rebel en masse, and the only way to do that is to give them something to believe in. Something other than the Lord Ruler and his oppression.”

“You,” Zane realizes.

“Me,” Kelsier agrees.

“You intend to martyr yourself to raise the skaa,” Zane says. “You know that if you do this, you’ll become the new god.”

“Better me than the Lord Ruler,” Kelsier says with a hint of humor. “And the people will undoubtedly look to Vin as my successor, which is why I need her protected. A new religion can have one martyr god, but not two.”

Zane nods. “Your kandra will protect her. They always obey the Contract.”

“Yes, but I think she will make it difficult for him.”

Zane thinks of what he knows about Vin. The stubborn tilt to her chin when she felt she was in the right even with all evidence to the contrary, the quiet way she observed a room from the edges, the way her body moved that said she knew in her bones what it was to be abandoned.

“No,” he agrees, “she won’t make it easy.”

“Will you,” Kelsier pauses, as though his request is asking is so momentous that he can barely say it. “Will you make sure she stays safe?”

There is a pause, and Zane feels a wave of shock pass through him. That Kelsier trusts him enough to ask him this guarantees his answer before he even has a chance to think about it.

“Of course.”

“You understand then. As my successor I need her to be protected once I’m gone,” Kelsier says, his voice rougher than Zane expected. Kelsier truly cares about his crew, but from what Zane has seen Kelsier thinks of Vin as the daughter he never had, and that puts her in a special position. “She is very strong willed, and I’m concerned that she will try to send OreSeur away where he cannot protect her. If she tries, will you intervene and keep OreSeur where he can help her the most? It may not be at her side, but I trust your judgement on this. Make sure that she is safe, Zane. Please.”

Zane meets Kelsier’s eyes to let him know he understands the burden he is agreeing to take on. That he understands that __he__  is responsible for making sure Vin is able to carry on Kelsier’s legacy. “I will keep her safe,” he says, “with everything that I have.”

Kelsier nods, standing taller as though Zane had taken a physical weight off his shoulders. “Thank you, Zane.”

Zane nods, because what can he say to that? Following Kelsier is Zane’s privilege, and he will do whatever is asked of him.

  
~*~

  
Zane hides in the shadows of the balcony at Keep Venture, watching the glittering gowns of the women twirling and spinning at the ball below.

Straff never allowed him to attend the balls before, too concerned about their family resemblance with all the obligators in attendance. Even now he remains hidden, tucked into a dark corner as Straff’s last words to him echoing in his ears.

_I rue the day I married that Shunah whore. All they do is breed craven idiots and now I need to eliminate them from the Venture line. Get rid of Elend and I will name you my heir._

Zane does not need the Venture title, nor does he want it. Kelsier has already given him everything he needs and association with a noble like Straff could only sully him. But Kelsier did instruct Zane and Vin to start the house war as soon as they were able, and killing Elend would certainly speed that process along.

Zane supposes he should feel bad about plotting to kill his half brother, but needs must and as Kelsier says; a noble is a noble is a noble and Zane has no love for anyone who holds a title.

“Zane. _Zane _.__ ”

Vin calls his name impatiently from an alcove nearby, her scarlet red dress taking up most of the seating space. Zane doesn’t bother asking how she spotted him, just walks over to sit beside her, his garb only slightly less distinguished than that of the average guest, allowing him to blend in acceptably well.

“What are you doing here?” she hisses at him once he has adjusted her skirts enough to find a perch on the cushion. “I thought Kelsier wanted us to start the house war.”

“Where better to do that than here?” Zane asks mildly. “I also have an assignment from Straff. He wants Elend out of the line of succession and he wants to be able to blame it on another noble house. Balls are the perfect place to do both.”

Vin stares at him for a moment, then gathers herself, her eyes briefly flashing down to the gathering below to locate Elend standing in front of Straff’s table. The way she stares down at him despite being several inches shorter and wearing such unpractical clothes is both impressive and pure noblewoman. No wonder she has been Kelsier’s spy within the social circles of the nobility; she’s flawless at her role.

“You will not touch Elend,” she says, voice hard. “He’s a good man, and he has nothing to do with the Lord Venture’s plotting and cruelty.”

Zane tilts his head in confusion. Her tone of voice says she will not be ignored, and is reminiscent of the way Kelsier calmly corrals his crew into agreeing to his impossible plans. Still, she is trying to influence him to save a noble.

“He’s a noble, Vin. They don’t care about people like us.”

“Elend cares,” she insists. “He’s different, he’s not like the others.”

She clearly believes it, and Zane can see that she’s willing him to believe it too. He doesn’t, but his opinions don’t really matter. The way she checked on Elend and the way she tried to intimidate Zane tell him all he needs to know; she cares about him. She cares about him the way Kelsier cares about his crew, and she will be devastated if anything happened to him.

Kelsier trusted Zane to protect her - all of her - so he will.

“Okay,” Zane says. “I won’t touch him.”

Vin meets his gaze and holds it until she is satisfied. “Good.” She stands, smoothing out her skirts. “I have a few more rumors to spread before I’m done for the night, so if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Lady Valette,” Zane says, taking her hand and walking her over to the stairs leading down onto the dance floor. “Best of luck with your endeavors tonight.”

Vin looks mildly surprised, but recovers quickly and gives him a farewell nod. “And you with yours.”

Zane watches her move elegantly through the crowd and approach another young noble he’s never seen before. The transformation from intimidating noblewoman to young socialite is amazing to see, and Zane realizes that even though Vin carries some of the same pain he does from a childhood of neglect and abuse, she is much more experienced in adapting to new environments and conforming to the expectations of her role than him.

He had thought Kelsier had chosen her as his heir because he thought of her as a daughter, now he realizes Kelsier saw this in her as well, and knew she would be able to take over for him in a way Zane never could.

That means that if he plans to truly protect Vin, Zane must also protect Elend. He knows Elend’s habits and his regular haunts within Keep Venture, but had so far actively avoided interacting with the House heir. Now he’ll have to reverse that trend.

Dragging his eyes away from Vin, Zane watches Elend. Elend is a creature of habit, which will will mean a steep learning curve for Zane as he figures out how best to prtect so vulnerable a target.

Straff must say something unpalatable, because Elend turns around and walks purposefully toward the door leading deeper into the house, clearly intent on leaving the festivities behind. Zane follows, staying far enough back that Elend can’t hear him.

Elend travels up to the secluded tower library Zane knows he spends most of his time in. His habits make him both disgustingly easy to track, leaving him a sitting duck for any Mistborn with a grudge against the Venture house. Straff must have been planning to see Elend dead for a while now, given that he’d never sent Zane to protect him against other Mistborn before.

A soft _snickt_  behind him makes Zane freeze, flaring his tin and turning slowly to see more. On the walkway behind him stands another Mistborn with several Mistings at their back. The slender build and short form suggest a woman, but Zane is not stupid enough to underestimate her because of her gender.

Zane steps aside, letting her set the tone of the encounter. She jumps up to the skylight above the library, dagger in her hand as she points to Elend below. Zane settles beside her and nods in agreement, already planning how he can take her out while she thinks he is an ally.

Before he can act, a handful of coins spray and them and knock several of the other Mistborn’s underlings off the roof, crying out as they are unable to stop their fall. Zane jumps back, pushing against the metal on the opposite tower wall to suspend himself in the air. The Mistborn drops to the ground after her underlings, presumably to check if they are alive and take their metals if they are not.

Pulling himself back up, Zane crouches by the skylight above the room Elend is in. From here he can stop anyone from getting into the room without going through him first, a satisfactory compromise since the other two Mistborn are out of sight.

A cry sounds out from the walkway on the other side of the tower, and Zane recognizes Vin’s voice. He scurries around the tower in time to see her dodge out of the way of the other Mistborn’s daggers.

Vin quickly regains her footing, and the two Mistborn go at each other in a flurry of blows that is nearly too fast for Zane to follow even with his enhanced vision. He wants to protect Vin, but she had tasked him with guarding Elend not an hour before. So he stays where he is, knowing that between Elend and Vin Elend is the one that cannot defend himself.

He regrets his decision when Vin stumbles back. The other Mistborn has atium, and Vin appears to have run out.  No Mistborn - not even one trained by Kelsier - can compete against an opponent with more atium.

Zane fumbles for his coinpurse and launches himself off the roof to get to Vin’s side.

Before he even manages to reachthe peak of his jump, Vin snatches an arrow out of the air and buries it in her attacker’s chest. The Mistborn takes a step back, and then another before falling lifeless to the ground.

Zane lets himself fall to the courtyard in shock as what just happened really hits him.  

_How on earth am I supposed to protect her,_  he wonders to himself. Vin just killed a Mistborn who not only had more experience, but had both more experience __and__ more atium. And she did it with less than a year of training as a Mistborn.

_That_  is what Kelsier assigned him to protect. Zane feels humbled by Kelsier’s trust in his abilities as he returns to Straff’s side to ride out the chaos of the night.

  
~*~

  
Straff fumes for nearly a full day about Elend’s survival before something else grabs his attention.

“I need you to come with me,” Straff says. “The steward has already packed a bag for you, and this is important.”

_Kill him,_  God demands, and Zane knows he could. Kelsier will need support in the city once he begins the final stages of his plan. But until he attacks the Pits, Kelsier wants him to play nice with Straff.

“Yes, Father,” Zane says, the words calm enough to pass for normal. He’ll go with Straff, for now. But if the urgent business is at the Pits, Zane will be returning to Luthadel on his own.

A barge waits for them in the channel by the Tin Gate, and when they start moving northeast Zane feels relief that they are not going to the Pits. He still has time before Kelsier enacts his plan and needs him by Vin’s side. He settles down to wait.

  
~*~

  
Two days later when Straff orders a man beaten to death for moving too slowly it becomes clear that this is not a normal business trip. Zane sees real fear in Straff’s eyes at the slight delay caused by the loss of a crewman and realizes that Straff isn’t just investigating a business venture, he’s running scared to Urteau with his tail between his legs because Kelsier _already destroyed the Pits of Hathsin._

“Father,” Zane says, approaching recklessly now that he knows what’s at stake. “In the interest of protecting your name, I will return to Luthadel and watch over your assets there until you feel comfortable returning to claim them.”

“No.” Straff is firm. “No, I need you with me.”

“Luthadel is the seat of your wealth,” Zane counters. “And your heir still resides in Keep Venture within the city.”

“No,” Straff repeats. “You will come to Urteau with me.”

Zane shakes his head, knowing that this is his chance to finally shake himself free of Straff.

_Kill him,_  God says. _Kill him and be done with him._

Zane reaches for the dagger at his side, but can’t find the will to draw it. “No, Father, I won’t,” he says instead, voice firm. “I will return to Luthadel and watch the progress of the city. It wouldn’t do for the Venture family to be without eyes and ears in the capital city.”

Straff pretends to consider Zane’s argument, but the way his eyes linger on the hand Zane still has wrapped around his dagger speak volumes as to what actually influences his decision.

“All right, boy,” Straff says at length. “I’ll let you return to Luthadel, but I expect regular updates on the state of affairs for the city.”

“Of course, Father,” Zane says. He wouldn’t dare do differently; not when Straff is likely to be one of the most dangerous enemies for Kelsier’s brave new world. Zane relaxes his grip on the knife as the rationalization takes hold; so long as his connection to Straff is useful, he won’t have to kill his own father. And no matter how Straff has abused him and other skaa over the years, Zane doesn’t know if he has it in him to kill his own father.

_Not yet,_  God whispers in his ear.

  
~*~

  
Zane’s pewter supplies don’t last the entire way to Luthadel, and it takes him the better part of two days before he arrives at the Tin gate. There are no guards to greet him when he does get there, and walks down the empty street toward Keep Venture without seeing a single guard or obligator.

The experience is surreal.

Keep Venture, when he arrives, has guards posted on the walls. He can tell by the way they hold their weapons that they are not career soldiers and he reassures himself that these must be members of Kelsier’s skaa army.

They __have__ to be, because anything else is unthinkable.

Zane knocks on the gate and stands back uncomfortably as the guards rush around to see who it is. He’s never been in a position where he has to wait for permission to enter a noble’s keep before, and he finds that he dislikes the feeling immensely.

“Who are you?” one of the guards calls down to him after a flurry of whispering. Zane cranes his neck and stares up at him, trying to imagine a guard saying something similar to any of the nobles in Luthadel.

“Zane Venture,” he says, tacking on his last name in hopes that they will associate him with Vin’s regard for Elend and not Straff. “Here to see Vin.”

The whispers resume, but Zane doesn’t bother to waste the tin he has to hear them. His metal supplies are running low, and he wants to conserve his metals in case he needs to fight later.

“Just a moment, sir, and we’ll raise the gate,” the same guard calls back down. Zane doesn’t respond, just waits. At least someone recognizes him, which is a positive sign.

The gate lifts open and a pair of guards armed with pikes and wooden shields greet Zane. “Lady Vin and Lord Elend are inside the study. If you please, we’ll take you to them.”

“Lead the way,” Zane says, gesturing into the keep grounds.

When they arrive at the door to Elend’s personal study, the guards knock and call out to the occupants inside. “Zane Venture to see Lady Vin and Lord Elend.”

Zane hears the shuffling of papers inside and short _thud_  followed by a man’s voice swearing. The door opens to reveal Elend, hair sticking up at all angles and bags under his eyes, looking as un-lordly as Zane has ever seen him.

“Brother,” Zane says in greeting, just to see Elend’s reaction.

Elend’s eyes widen and his eyes dart up to Zane’s hair before giving him a quick once over, clearly noting the similarities between their features. His eyes get even wider as he realizes he’s been standing in the doorway gaping at Zane, and he flushes and pulls back. “Come in, come in, sorry for the mess.”

Zane practices smiling in thanks at the two guards, but the discomfited looks they give him say he didn’t get the expression quite right. Next time, then.

The inside of the room is a disaster zone. Papers cover every available surface and half of the floor. They are marked with red, blue, black, and sometimes green ink, as though Elend is actually trying to make sense of all the political drivel in the books he favors. Vin perches on a stool in the corner, her sightlines covering the skylight, window, and door while still allowing her to read over Elend’s shoulder when sits at his desk.

Based on the state of the room, Zane does not think Elend has done much sitting at his desk.

“What happened.” Zane directs the question at Vin, because whatever happened he can be sure she was at the heart of it and she will continue to be at the heart of the happenings from here on out. She is, after all, Kelsier’s heir.

“The Lord Ruler is dead. Kelsier…” she stops and then restarts. “Kelsier killed an Inquisitor before he died. Now we’re trying to establish a new form of government.”

Establishing a new government sounds terrible, but Kelsier wouldn’t have wanted them to replace one oppressive monarch with another, no matter how expedient it might be. That combined with Vin’s determined look means he’s going to be involved with this whether the boredom kills him or not.

“What can I do to help?” he asks.

  
~*~

  
As it turns out, what Zane can do to help is get the hell out of Elend’s office and work with the guard.

No government - not even Elend’s ideal government, which he is still working out the details on - can function without an armed force at their beck and call, and the skaa army that took the city is wanting to say the least. Zane understands that Ham did the best he could training the rebel army, but training to storm a garrison and training to protect a city are vastly different.

Zane has very little training in guard duty - Straff expected his abilities as Mistborn to put him on par with the guards at Keep Venture, which for the most part they did - but he has broken into enough places to know when the soldiers on duty are incompetent. Elend’s army has a long way to go, to say the least.

Luckily Zane is very __very__  good at attacking, and thanks to the near endless supply of pewter being the Heir of the Survivor grants Vin, Zane can drill the men for hours without wearing down.

Ham drills the soldiers too and it’s clear they look up to him and respect his judgment, although he shuffles his feet and looks uncomfortable every time someone addresses him as General Ham. The title should be an honor, not a burden, but Zane thinks he understands that part of Ham still feels responsible for the slaughter of the majority of the army at Holstep.

Still, training the army is an important part of establishing the power of a new ruler. As the days drag into weeks while Elend builds the foundation for his representative government Zane stays with the guard, protecting the city and protecting the palace while keeping his promise to Kelsier to keep his heir safe.

  
~*~

  
A year passes as Elend builds his government and Vin adjusts to her new role as the Heir of the Survivor as the Church swells in size. Zane uses the time to train the army and monitor the Church - occasionally giving the congregations a riotous or soothing nudge in the right direction during the sermons - making sure that they are both ready and willing to stand behind Vin and her cause.

This though. This did not factor into any of his plans.

“Any action the army takes has to first be approved by the council,” Zane says, stony faced as he expresses his displeasure regarding the law Vin just explained. “And Elend thought this was a good idea because…?”

“Because it’s fairer to everyone this way,” Vin replies, defending Elend the way she always does.

“It’s a lot fairer to the attackers, definitely evens the odds.” Zane says. “Gives them a fair chance even though we have defensible walls and two Mistborn while they have none.”

“You don’t know that they don’t have Mistborn,” Vin snaps, dredging up an hour old bit of their discussion to avoid answering why exactly they had to entertain the notion that they would cede the city to Straff and his army without a fight.

“I do, because Straff sent a messenger to contact me,” Zane says, reminding himself that Kelsier stayed calm and rational even when his crew wanted to abandon the plan. “He was always going to come back, so I’ve been sending him letters, letting him think our minor trade routes are major ones and that we’re understocked enough for him to starve us out with a siege in under a month. In return he has thanked me and reminded me how valuable I am as his Mistborn, which he wouldn’t bother doing if he had someone else.”

Vin snorts. “If I were commanding an army of twenty five thousand men, I’d certainly have a little more caution than to reveal my allomantic advantages to the Mistborn who ran away from me a year ago.”

“I left him to keep an eye on Luthadel,” Zane argues back. “He trusts me.”

“From what you and Elend have told me, I doubt Straff trusts anyone,” Vin says. “But it’s a moot point until the council decides what to do.”

_Go kill him. You knew he’d come back, and now he’s here!_ God says, speaking up for the first time in over a month. _This is your opportunity._

Zane runs a hand through his hair, a bad habit he picked up from Elend, and yanks at the roots, helping him to ignore the voice. It had been right before - he should have killed Straff when he was fleeing to Urteau - but now he had Vin’s belief and Elend’s laws dictating his limits, and he wouldn’t allow his madness to overrule that.

“We need to do _something_ ,” Zane argues. “No matter what the council decides, we can’t let him have the city. Elend’s government is realizing Kelsier’s dream of raising the skaa out of their drudgery, and you __know__  that Straff will take that away the moment he’s inside the city gates.”

Vin nods. “That’s why Elend is preparing to talk to the council tomorrow. As soon as they ratify the decision to resist, he’ll have free reign to fight.”

But if they decide to roll over and show their underbelly, Straff will gut them like a stuck pig. Zane blows out a breath and keeps his temper in check, catching himself from running a hand through his hair again.

Goddammit, Elend.

“What about us?” he asks instead. “We’re Mistborn, we’re natural spies, and you have a kandra at your command. We could infiltrate the camp, take out Straff and the generals and be back in time for dinner. Neither of us are King or Queen, so we don’t need council approval to attack.”

“Yes, we do,” Vin insists.

“We are not Elend’s playthings!” Zane explodes. “We are independent agents and we can do __as we please__.”

“Of course we __can__ ,” Vin returns, her voice rising in anger as she speaks. “But it’s a matter of integrity that we __won’t__. Because our actions reflect on Elend and going behind the back of the council to __attack__  shows just how little we value the governing system we helped install! It makes us no better than the Lord Ruler who preached himself a fair and benevolent savior while building his empire on the backs of the skaa.”

Zane finds himself taking a step back at the force of her argument. Seeing her conviction on the subject leaves him feeling deflated. Vin has the final word in this argument, and she has made her call.

“All right,” he says, calmer now. “But I’m going to talk to Elend about laying in some groundwork so that our army isn’t fighting blind once the council approves his decision.”

“Just don’t take too long,” Vin says with a nod. “He’s a little wrapped up in getting the speech perfect.”

“Of course he is,” Zane mutters. “I’ll make sure he gets some sleep before tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

Vin smiles at Zane as he walks away, heading toward the tower study Elend still favors.

He finds Elend in front of the mirror he had hauled up to the study so he could practice speeches in front of it. Zane stays quiet, watching as Elend delivers the end of his rousing speech.

“Bravo,” Zane says when he finishes. “Your speech writing skills are ever improving, Brother.”

Elend wrinkles his nose. “You don’t have to be patronizing,” he says. “We all know you hate speeches.”

It’s true, so Zane doesn’t bother replying. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about the army camped outside our walls. You know that Father is not going to wait for you to make any diplomatic overtures toward him before he attacks.”

“I was his heir before the fall, and I’m still his son. That should grant us a little leeway.”

Zane waves a hand dismissively. “You are forgetting the part where he ordered me to kill you.”

“That was before I was king,” Elend says. “And he wanted me out of the way because he thought I was weak. If he still thinks that now, he might think he can influence me into letting him into the city. I don’t think he’ll waste his men in an attack if he thinks he might not have to.”

“You overestimate the value Straff puts on the lives of his men,” Zane says. “And even though he currently thinks you are a king after the fashion of the Lord Ruler, that only makes you a more valuable assassination target. You’ve been independent for a year, even I can’t persuade him not to change his opinion of you with that information. But at least you’re moderately safe; Straff still thinks I’m his assassin, so it’s not like he has the means.”

Elend shakes his head. “I know Straff’s diplomacy. He’ll send an envoy and request an audience before he attacks.”

“By request an audience you mean demand your presence in his camp,” Zane clarifies, and Elend shrugs. Zane wants to shake him for being so blase about his own safety. Straff is _dangerous_ , their father or not. “All right then,” he concedes, “we’ll do it your way. But you at least have to agree to let me send someone to his camp to gather information. I’m not letting you go in blind; Vin would have my head.”

Elend sighs. “I can’t let you do that. Spying could be considered an act of war, and the council hasn’t given approval yet.”

Zane grinds his teeth together, thankful that Vin isn’t here with her tin enhanced ears to call him out on his frustration. “We have a kandra,” he points out. “Their Contract says they cannot be required to kill humans, sending OreSeur would not be an act of war.”

“But we’d still have to acquire a person for him to replace,” Elend says, nitpicking the argument. “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea. If the council approves tomorrow we absolutely should put some of our people in Straff’s camp, but until then our hands are tied.”

Elend’s hands are tied, he means. Vin’s hands are tied. Zane’s looser appreciation for the rules and the task given to him by Kelsier mean that __he__  is free to do as he pleases so long as he keeps Vin and Elend safe and does not start a war.

“All right then, Brother,” Zane says, amusement filtering through him as Elend’s nose scrunches up at the form of address. “I’ll behave. But only if you promise to get some sleep. You’re worrying Vin.”

Elend allows himself to be shepherded out of the study and to his bedroom, although the way he clutches his speech suggests that he is going to practice in front of the vanity rather than actually getting any rest.

“Don’t make me send Vin to check on you,” Zane threatens before he leaves Elend to his own devices.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Elend replies. “Goodnight, Zane.”

“Sleep well,” Zane replies, shutting the door behind him. He remains outside the door for a few minutes, waiting for the lights to go out. When they don’t, he sighs to himself and goes to find Vin.

She can deal with Elend tonight, he has an infiltration to plan.

  
~*~

  
“Your Mistborn is here to see you, my king,” the guard says from inside the tent. Zane burns tin to listen for Straff’s response.

“Let him in.”

The guard ducks out to where Zane is waiting and holds the flap of the command tent open for him. “King Venture will see you now,” he tells Zane, obviously unaware that Zane could hear the order himself.

He walks in, not bothering to thank the guard because he wouldn’t have a year ago when lived with Straff and he can’t afford to show any weaknesses now.

“Father,” he greets.

Straff doesn’t speak, simply raises an eyebrow and waits. Zane knows this game, has played it before. He knows Straff is letting him fill in the blanks in the silence, waiting for him to either prove himself a traitor or spill all the information he has in a futile attempt to impress. So he waits, holding Straff’s gaze and forcing him to speak first.

Straff breaks first.

“I hear that you are supporting my son in his bid for control over the city.”

Zane said as much in his letters, but he can’t discount the simple truth that Straff could have other spies in the city. He keeps his lies as close to the truth as he can.

“He’s a Venture,” Zane shrugs. “And he has the approval of the Survivor’s heir; it only made sense to back the most powerful faction.”

“Very well. Tell me about you impression of his rule.”

“He’s weak,” Zane says immediately. “He relies on his Mistborn to stay in power. She is the only control he has over the nobility and she controls the skaa as well, and she follows his every order. He knows he can’t maintain this balance for long, and if he accepts your help she’ll go along with it to keep him happy.”

“Taking her out of the picture would be the easiest solution, then,” Straff muses.

Zane shakes his head. “She’s stronger than me, Father, and she has the support of the people. Threatening her to destabilize Elend is not the way to take the city.”

“And I suppose you have a suggestion, then,” Straff says, baiting him.

“Negotiate with Elend,” Zane suggests, rising to take the offering because Straff expects it. “Give him the illusion of having options and he’ll cave. Once he orders his Mistborn to stand down, you will have complete and utter control of the city.”

“You are forgetting that the girl has his ear,” Straff says, agitation clear. “If she does not agree she can start a war on her own.”

Zane shrugs to show what he thinks of that outcome. Vin will never start a war, and Straff will never believe him again if he says that. “So she starts a war. You still have the superior force and within a month their armies are starved. You lose nothing through a more peaceful takeover.”

“Peaceful takeover,” Straff repeats, and Zane knows he’s messed up. He never cared for politics before, and Straff thinks him the obedient but bloodthristy dog he was when he stumbled into the allomancer holding room in Urteau all those years ago. “You have changed, but I see your point. We’ll try it your way, but I want extra insurance.”

“What would you have me do?” Zane asks.

“You will protect me, if that girl decides to attack,” Straff states. “And you will place a spy in Elend’s inner circle to bend his ear, make him more pliable.”

“Of course I will protect you,” Zane says, lying through his teeth. “But your son keeps council with the thieves who were part of the Survivor’s crew; anyone new I might introduce would regarded with heavy suspicion.”

“That is why we have kandra, boy,” Straff says, dismissing Zane’s concerns.

Zane seizes the opportunity. “That could work,” he agrees. “But I would need to have his Contract. I will not have an agent I can’t control mucking up my cover.”

Straff considers, and Zane consciously refrains from using allomancy to influence the decision. If Straff detects even a whiff of subterfuge, he could position the kandra on his own without Zane knowing.

“Very well,” he says at last, “I will write you into the Contract. When I am not present, TenSoon is to follow your orders as though they were mine.”

Good enough. “That is acceptable, Father. When should I have the body ready for him?”

“Two days from now at noon, by the Pewter Gate. I expect Elend to contact me for an audience within the week.” Straff turns back to his maps once he finishes speaking, clearly done with the conversation.

Zane dips his head in acknowledgment and speaks before he leaves to return to Luthadel. “Yes, Father.”

  
~*~

  
“That’s a second army, all right,” Ham says, standing next to Zane on the wall.

Breeze claims that two armies are better than one, but Zane doesn’t feel so sure. They could have dealt with Straff. Not by force, but by subterfuge. Because he’s a Venture, and so are Elend and Zane. Straff may be able to outsmart one of his sons, but not the two of them together. They could have bluffed their way into cheating Straff out of the city.

Cett though, Cett is an unknown.

“It sure is,” Zane mutters back, grinding his teeth as he considers how to play this new development with Straff.

  
~*~

  
With Cett’s camp on the other side of Luthadel from Straff, getting TenSoon into Elend’s inner circle becomes more important than ever. Straff __needs__  to be able to get Elend’s ear, and Zane _needs_  to know the identity of all the spies in the capital so he can keep an eye on them.

Getting TenSoon into the city won’t be a problem. While Luthadel is under siege no one is allowed in or out of the city. Exceptions are made for Kelsier’s old crew, Zane included, and they are free to enter and exit the city as the please. This privilege means Zane only has to provide TenSoon with a body, and he’ll be free to escort the kandra inside.

What _would_  be a problem is finding TenSoon a way into Elend’s inner circle. Obviously none of the original crewmembers can be replaced, and Zane can’t just __tell__ them there was a new kandra present. Not only would it cause them to be more guarded and reveal that he had defied Elend by spying without government approval, but TenSoon’s Contract still technically belongs to Straff. If he grows suspicious of Zane’s true loyalties he could report it to Straff and blow Zane’s cover, making it impossible for Zane to adequately protect Vin.

The most obvious solution, thankfully, does not take a lot of convincing.

“Straff tasked me with inserting his kandra into Elend’s inner circle,” Zane tells OreSeur. “I am to give him orders, but I need to put him somewhere I can keep an eye on him.”

“I’m not sure my counsel on the matter would be of much value,” OreSeur says. “But I do not think it wise to put one of my kind who is Contracted to Straff in a position so close to Lady Vin and Lord Elend.”

“No,” Zane agrees. “But there is not a large amount of choice in the matter, and as kandra cannot kill humans I imagine they will be safe from physical harm.”

“That is true. It goes against the Contract for a kandra to kill a human.”

“So, OreSeur,” Zane says, a toothy smile spreading over his face. “We find ourselves in need of a spy who can tell us about Cett. How would you like to wear human bones again?”

  
~*~

  
“King Venture informed me that I would be portraying one of the men in Elend’s inner circle,” TenSoon objects when he sees the bones Zane has brought him to. “These are not the bones of a man.”

“No, they are not,” Zane says, looking at the wolfhound’s bones laid out on the floor between them. “While I am aware of the prowess of kandra when it comes to impersonation, even I cannot arrange for a member of the inner circle to disappear for several hours without arousing suspicion.”

“What am I to do with these, Master Zane?” TenSoon says, giving the bones a disgusted look.

“Wear them,” Zane says, unsympathetic to the disgust clear in TenSoon’s eyes. Kandra will obey their Contracts to the letter; it does not matter how much TenSoon will hate him for this. “They were last inhabited by the kandra OreSeur who was contracted to Kelsier. His current - or rather, former - job was to protect the Lady Vin by staying at her side as she patrols the city. You will wear them and take up his mantle. She cannot notice a difference.”

“I will do as the Contract bids me,” TenSoon says. “Though these bones are an insult to my kind.”

“OreSeur said exactly the same thing,” Zane observes lightly. “I think you’ll do a great job. Before you put on the bones though, I have an overview of OreSeur’s Contract with Kelsier for you to review.”

TenSoon gives him a sharp look at the mention of Kelsier’s contract, but remains silent. Zane holds his gaze for a moment, before dropping it. Kandra are strange creatures, but TenSoon poses no threat to him.

“Vin will expect you to be at the door to her rooms by sundown,” Zane throws over his shoulder as he leaves. “Be ready to run.”  
  


~*~

  
Straff didn’t tell him.

Straff didn’t _tell him_  that Vin and Elend were going to visit the camp for _tea _.__

He knew about the meeting, of course, because neither Vin nor Elend were in the habit of keeping _important meetings_  secret from their allies.

Zane fumes outside the command tent, keeping silent company with Vin as both of them burn tin to overhear the conversation between Straff and Elend inside. Either Straff trusts him far more or far less than Zane thought if he was willing to let Vin into his camp without Zane there to protect him.

Or maybe he assumed Zane would find out and come of his own accord. Straff did always enjoy games like that, although never with stakes this high.

The conversation turns to threats, and Zane finds himself both impressed and worried about how well Elend does against Straff’s tactics - far better than Zane ever managed. Then Elend takes a deep breath - a telltale sign that he’s about to do something stupid or reckless - and tells Straff that Vin has been playing his emotions the entire time.

She and Zane react to the cues in tandem, soothing and rioting Straff’s emotions together to create a stronger effect.

Zane can hear the fear in Straff’s voice as he responds, and he feels a swell of pride at the knowledge that he helped put it there. He shares a look with Vin and sees that pride reflected in her eyes.

Elend exits the tent with his head held high, leaving Straff behind in his wake. Zane walks back to the city proper with them before splitting off, ostensibly to check on the army but instead returning to Straff to hear how Vin’s power has affected his plans.  
  


~*~

  
“I want you to kill her,” Straff says as soon as Zane ducks into the tent. “She’s too powerful.”

“I can’t take her out by myself,” Zane says, ignoring the way Straff’s eyes harden at his admission of inferiority. “I’ll need a team.”

“Whatever you think is best, just get rid of her.”

Zane nods at Straff, considering how to best to warn Vin without telling her about his unapproved intelligence gathering. “Coinshots and Thugs, at least four of each. And I’ll need some time to arrange a favorable opportunity for them.”

“Take the allomancers from my personal guard,” Straff says, and Zane knows he means the other children raised in the slums or Urteau. “And plan the attack well enough that it can’t be traced back to us.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Zane says.

  
~*~

  
Only a few days later and the situation has gone from hopeful to worse.

“A message from your kandra,” Zane says, handing Straff a sealed envelope. He has already read and rewritten some of the contents, not wanting information he doesn’t control getting into Straff’s hands.

Still, there’s only so much he can do when the entire city is in uproar about Elend losing his crown.

_Kill him,_ God whispers insistently. _He’s vulnerable, kill him while you have the chance._

Zane ignores the thought, knowing that Straff is anything but vulnerable right now.

“I don’t suppose I need to tell you what the letter contains,” Straff muses. “Or that it means we have been given the perfect opportunity to strike.”

“No, Father,” Zane says. “The council is meeting for a vote in a fortnight. Your son, Vin, the city nobles, and Ashweather Cett will all be present. There will not be a better time to go on the offensive.”

Straff snorts. “As though we were not on the offensive already, camped outside this miserable city.”

Zane reminds himself that responding to Straff’s inane comments risks giving away too much about the state of the city. “If we take the teams of Coinshots and Thugs and scatter them through the audience, we’ll be able to create enough chaos that Vin will not be able to protect Elend, which will leave her vulnerable.”

“And you’re sure they don’t have the atium,” Straff says, looking intently at Zane.

“No one has been able to find it, if it’s even in the city at all,” Zane confirms. He had told Straff weeks ago that the atium was not in the city on the off chance that the knowledge would make him lose interest in Luthadel. Regardless, he was going to find out eventually.

“Remind me again why you can’t kill her even though you have access to atium when she does not.”

Refraining from rolling his eyes, Zane gives the same answer he has given each and every time Straff asks. “She does have __some__  atium, and I’m not sure how much. I saw her use it against Cett’s assassins, and I’ve seen her use it again. She doesn’t use it freely enough for it to be the Lord Ruler’s stash, but it’s more than enough for someone of her abilities.”

“Hmm,” Straff muses. “But if you were guaranteed to have more than her, you could kill her?”

“I’ve seen her kill a Mistborn that had more atium than she did,” Zane reminds Straff. “And Shan Elariel was powerful.”

The reminder does what Zane expected, and Straff backs away from that avenue of thought.

“And you think an attack at the assembly will split her attention enough to allow for you to kill her.”

Zane shrugs as though he hasn’t already planned down to the exact seat what the best and worst arrangement of Straff’s allomancers in the assembly hall would be. “The Survivor’s crew will be there, as well as Elend and the city politicians. They’ll all be looking to her for help, and her attention will be split and she won’t be expecting an attack from me.”

“Because she trusts you,” Straff says, and there it is, the skepticism in his voice hinting that he doesn’t think anyone as intelligent as Zane claims Vin to be could truly trust him.

Well. Once he convinces Straff to carry out this attack, he has some reassessing to do.

“Because I helped stabilize the government,” Zane counters. “And she doesn’t see the value in building something up only to tear it down.”

“Show me how you plan to arrange my allomancers, then,” Straff demands, waving at a crude sketch of the assembly hall.

Zane steps forward. “Their general will sit here, in the front middle section. His soldiers will cover the front row and be scattered randomly throughout the audience. Elend will enter from the front right corner of the hall, and Vin will stand near him. The other members of the inner circle tend to cluster in the left of the hall where Elend has a clear view of them while speaking. Placing the two pairs on the left, one pair in the back, and one pair on the right should be enough to split the inner circle down the middle and cause enough panic within the chamber to create an opening.”

Straff nods, looking over the plans. “All right. I’ll send them in with the crowds. You meet them here-” he points at a seat near the right side of the gathering, “and coordinate the attack on these so called Assemblymen.”

“I’ll be able to get there,” Zane says, not liking how the position will leave him separated from Ham and the members of the army. Regardless, he will have to tell Vin and Ham about the attack before it happens so they can be prepared - his placement during the initiation of the plan will not hinder their defenses.

“Excellent,” Straff says, waving Zane away from the table as he straightens. Zane inclines his head instead of bowing, and turns to see himself out.

“And, Zane,” Straff calls as he leaves. “I expect results from this.”

“Yes, Father,” Zane says.

  
~*~

  
“You _what?_ ” Elend says, his tone both angry and disappointed in the extreme. Zane is impressed with how much Tindwyl’s lessons have improved Elend’s kingly demeanor, but he still finds it impossible to be intimidated by someone he has seen walk into a wall because he was too engrossed in a book to look where he was going.

“Despite being our father, Straff is a threat to the city,” Zane says calmly. “I thought it prudent to see exactly _what kind_ of threat he was.”

“By being a double agent for him,” Vin says, venom in her voice.

“By spying on him in exchange for false information,” Zane clarifies. “It’s nothing I wasn’t doing before; you knew I wrote letters to him even before he came to Luthadel.”

“That was before he besieged the city and this became a matter for the council,” Elend says disapprovingly. “You can’t decide what’s best for the city on your own; this is _why we have a council._ ”

“It should be the King’s job to declare war,” Zane says testily. “I admit that your government gives the skaa the power Kelsier wanted them to have, but during times of stress there needs to be _one ruler_ and that one ruler needs to hold all the cards.”

“ _The people_ need to be the ones holding the cards, or we’ll end up with tyranny like the Lord Ruler’s,” Elend argues. “This is the best way.”

Elend is wrong. Elend is so wrong and Zane just can’t help himself. “No, it’s not. The best way is to have the people _still be alive_ , and for that they need someone willing to _lead._ Especially since _my information_ has brought to your attention that we have an army of _koloss_  waiting within striking distance. Right now that leader doesn’t seem like you.”

“I’m willing to lead, but I only lead by the say of the people. That’s the whole _point._ ”

“I think we should make a plan for the attack on the Assembly,” Vin interrupts, drawing Zane’s attention away from Elend’s stupid ideas about his stupid government. “Right now it doesn’t matter if Zane was out of line or not and we can’t deal with the koloss unless we get through the Assembly meeting; we know an attack is coming and we have to deal with it.”

“We can’t call off the Assembly,” Elend says. “The vote is too important.”

“And it will show our hand,” Zane agrees, turning to Vin. “Straff wants you dead. If we can eliminate the allomancers he’s going to send to the Assembly, he’ll be unable to do that.”

“He should be unable to now,” Elend says, frowning at Zane.

“Yes,” Zane agrees. “He should be. But losing those allomancers will be a heavy blow; he doesn’t have that many at his command. Especially not many with abilities that are useful in combat.”

“Which will put us in a better bargaining position,” Elend finishes for him.

Zane glowers, still too irritated at Elend’s anger over his time playing nice with Straff to appreciate him getting on board with the plan. He stalks over to the table and sketches out a drawing of the Assembly room.

“Here, here, here, and here are the places Straff will put his allomancers. Four pairs, one Coinshot and one Thug each,” Zane says, pointing to the seats in the hall he had suggested to Straff earlier. “I’m going to have to be here-” he points to the right section audience, “before the attack commences. I’ll give you a signal when I’m in position.”

“If you’re on the same side as me, we’ll want Ham on the left to cut off Straff’s allomancers from reaching the main table,” Vin says. “And we’ll need to alert the guards, have more of a presence there than normal.”

“Cett will be there as well,” Elend says. “He’ll have to be if he wants to be elected, and he will definitely be a target for Straff’s assassins as well. We can’t afford to lose the advantage being the third party in these negotiations gives us.”

Zane shakes his head. “No, the allomancers won’t attack Cett. If this fails, Straff plans to set up the cards so that it looks like it was Cett’s plan all along. Vin has him scared, we just need to drive that home.”

“So we set up the guards to protect the people, place you and Vin to be able to get to the high table, manage to kill eight highly skilled allomancers, and win the election,” Elend summarizes, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, then. Let’s do this.”

  
~*~

  
The problems start before Elend even arrives at the Assembly.

The room is so packed that Ham’s soldiers won’t be able to maneuver when the attack begins. Straff’s Coinshots will be able to fire straight into the crowd without any resistance.

The next problem is Straff’s Coinshots. They are _definitely_  not where they were Zane had poisitioned them, and Zane cruses Straff and his paranoia to hell and back.

He’d spent nearly an hour explaining to Straff in excruciatingdetail exactly where the pairs should be placed for maximum (dis)advantage. But they aren’t there, no, they’re _much_  closer to where Zane absolutely does not want them: one pair guarding each of the three exits and the fourth seated in front of Elend.

Fucking Straff and his fucking trust issues. And Zane doesn’t even have time to go and _warn_ Vin so she’ll have to come in and deal with the changes blind.

“Three at the exits and one by you,” Zane says softly when he catches Vin’s eye as she walks out. He’s not sure she heard him, but he can see her scanning the crowd and the frown on her face tells him she knows something isn’t right.

So there’s that.

But then.

Then.

The absolute morons don’t vote for Elend.

They vote for that spineless twat Penrod instead, and Zane has half a mind to let Straff’s allomancers take out the nobles and merchants on the Assembly out of spite.

But that would only upset Vin and she doesn’t deserve that.

So Zane grits his teeth and moves toward the right side of the room, tongue touching the coin in his cheek for security as he gives the signal to attack.

Before the room descends into total chaos, Zane pushes a coin through the Coinshot seated closest to Elend. It still leaves three of them taking potshots at Vin from afar as she deals with the Thug, but it’s better than nothing.

Unfortunately, once the blood appears the screaming starts and the general public loses their collectives minds. Zane steelpushes against a coin to hover above the crowd and survey the scene. As the crowd below tries to run in all directions at once, someone kicks his coin and Zane pulls desperately on the blue lines leading to the ceiling to keep from falling.

_That,_  Zane decides, _was probably not my brightest move._ He burns iron and lands lightly on his feet, using the metal ornamentation scattered around the room to keep himself steady.

Trusting Vin to take care of the Assemblymen, Zane burns steel. The blue lines that spread out before him are nearly impossible to distinguish, but he’s always had a finesse with his steelpushes. He sorts through the lines carefully but quickly, identifying the culsters of blue lines as the coinpurses Straff’s Mistings are using.

Zane flares steel, ripping the coinpurses from their owners’ waists and holding them against the wall. With their coins rendered useless, the Mistings start pushing on coins and jewelry carried by the civilians in the crowd. Zane burns bronze, ignoring the soft background thumping as he focuses on any flares coming from the Coinshots. He manages to pick out most of the metal they target in the crowd, and moves it first so that it cannot be aimed at the crowd.

Straff’s allomancers quickly realize that assulting the crowd is ineffective, and their focus switches to Vin. Zane shouts out a warning as he feels the allomancy in the Thugs flare to life, but frustrating the Coinshots takes all his attention. If he tries to help Vin fight the Thugs, the Coinshots will be able to attack the crowd and split Vin’s focus.

Vin is good but the plethora of potential hostages available to the four Thugs gives them the upper hand. Zane watches helplessly as they land hits on her, the pewter enhancing her body only absorbing some of the damage.

But then they go for Elend.

For a normal human, Elend manages to land a surprising number of blows. Of course, the Thugs are taking care not to kill him and lose their leverage over Vin. Smart, but not smart enough.

Zane sees the desperation flash across her face and wonders if that was what Kelsier looked like before he beheaded the Inquisitor.

She burns duralumin and pewter, rushing forward in a flash of motion that is a blur even to Zane. The scene explodes in a burst of red when she stops and Zane watches as she sways and struggles to stand on her feet. Elend rushes toward her, catching her just before she hits the ground.

Vin’s fall breaks the tension in the room, and Zane watches carefully as Ham and his soldiers forcefully drag the Coinshots from the room. Zane will have to pay them a visit in prison later; to make sure that none of them can carry the story of his betrayal back to Straff.

Zane sees TenSoon runs to her side as well, his giant form as a wolfhound scaring away potential gawkers from the remainder of the crowd, and __fuck__  why didn’t Zane realize? He could watch the kandra all he wanted, but TenSoon spent most of his time with Vin. She didn’t know the kandra wasn’t OreSeur and she didn’t know that Zane was playing at being a double agent to extract information from Straff. All she had to do was say the wrong thing and OreSeur would know where Zane’s true allegiance lies.

Then all TenSoon had to do was make contact with Straff outside of Zane. Barely even a challenge for a kandra as experienced as TenSoon.

Zane would have to get on damage control, and fast.

  
~*~

  
“What happened?” Elend asks, his thumb gently stroking the back of Vin’s hand as he sits by her bedside. “I thought we had this planned out. I thought we were prepared.”

“Straff changed the game,” Zane says. “He altered the attack plan without telling me, and I’ll bet those men you have stored in your dungeon will point their fingers at me as soon as you ask them any questions.”

Elend smiles grimly. “Are there any men in my basement to point fingers at you?”

“Of course,” Zane huffs. “There’s no point in killing them now. If Straff didn’t know for sure I was a plant before, he does now.”

“Oh?” Elend says, his grip on Vin’s hand tightening for a moment. “And how do __you__  know that? Do you have a whole network of spies set up that I don’t know about?”

Yes, Zane doesn’t say. Did Elend really expect him to go into this war blind? “No,” he says instead. “Cett was going to be set up to take the fall, but did you see the way the pairs were stationed? Two pairs that close to Cett and the Coinshots trying to aim directly at him? They were trying to take him out too. Can’t blame an attack on a dead man.”

“How do you know they were aiming for Cett?” Elend asks, curious now.

“When I block a Coinshot, I know what he’s aiming at,” Zane snorts, irritated that Elend has such a poor view of his abilities. “I may not have been trained by the Survivor like Vin, but I do have some tricks up my sleeve.”

Elend wrinkles his nose. “Don’t call him that; his name was Kelsier. No one in the crew calls him that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to believe in that now,” Zane says testily. He’s not sure how he feels about Elend joining the Church of the Survivor. On one hand, Kelsier is a savior and Zane wholeheartedly supports his ascent into legend. On the other hand, the Church often gets Kelsier’s message __wrong__. Zane has done his best to steer the Luthadel branch away from some of the more absurd ideas like Kelsier saying the mists would bless people who went out in them, but the religion has spread through much of the remnants of the Final Empire, and Zane shudders to think about what some sects must believe.

“It’s more about practice than faith, really,” Elend says. So joining the Church had been a matter of principle rather than true belief. Zane isn’t suprised; Elend didn’t know Kelsier, didn’t have a chance to truly witness his actions the way Zane did.

“Besides,” Elend says, looking down at Vin, his face does the thing where it radiates fondness in a way that makes something twist uncomfortably inside of Zane. “She’s so much more than just a symbol. So much more than _just_  the Heir.”

Zane nods, because that, at least, is one point they both agree on.

  
~*~

  
The attack is coming.

Straff has withdrawn, deciding to let the koloss do his dirty work for him rather than face two Mistborn head on.

The koloss are going to attack the city and Zane __cannot find Vin.__  

Just the other day she had asked Zane if he heard a thumping in the city when he burned bronze. She had seemed so insistent about it, like it was constantly bothering her. Zane had tried, had burned his bronze, but hadn’t felt anything.

Now he does.

Now he feels it in his bones.

The thumping is coming from Kredik Shaw, and Zane can’t find Vin to tell her.

“Ham,” he says desparately, running over to the Thug as he makes his way around the city wall on patrol. “Ham, where is Vin? I can’t find her.”

Ham’s eyes are sorrowful as he turns to answer. “We sent her to Tathingdwen. Her and Elend and Spook. Figured that we should try to keep her safe even if the city is doomed.”

“Why Tathingdwen? Surely there’s somewhere-”

It dawns on him as he says it. “The Lord Ruler’s logbook. The thumping she’s hearing. You told her she could find it in Terris?”

Ham huffs. “It was the only way to get her out of the city. Don’t tell me you _wanted_  her to die here with the rest of us.”

“Of course not,” Zane says, still too focused on his revelation to consider that the crew must have gotten together and made that decision without him. “But Ham, it’s __here__. What she’s trying to find? It’s here in Luthadel and I need to tell her.”

“How can you be sure?” Ham asks. “The logbook implied that only the Hero could hear the sounds from the Well.”

“Then the Hero must have been a Seeker or a Mistborn, because I can hear it when I burn bronze. I couldn’t until just a day ago, but now I can and Ham, I swear, it’s coming from Kredik Shaw.”

“I’m not sure there’s much we can do with it now, Zane,” Ham says. “But Vin is safely away from the city. She’ll be able to figure it out on her own and come back, if it’s really that important.”

“She’s only mentioned it a few times, but she couldn’t hide that something was bothering her since she woke up from the attack on the Assembly. Surely you could tell, too,” Zane insists. “Help me get to her. Help me get enough pewter to reach her and let her know.”

Ham shakes his head, but doesn’t turn him down. Zane nearly holds his breath; Ham is the dreamer and philosopher among them, no matter what he tries to pretend. If anyone will believe Zane, it’s him.

“All right,” he says at length. “I’ll send you after them.”

“Thank you,” Zane breathes out. “I promise I’ll bring them back.”

“I’m sure you will,” Ham says, his voice betraying just how much the thought worries him. “Just don’t get yourself killed on the way.”

“Of course not,” Zane says, the beginnings of a smile forming on his face. “I have a message to deliver.”

  
~*~

  
Zane gapes when he sees the whirlwind of horseshoes approaching him. It takes him a moment to realize that at the eye of the movement is Vin, using the horseshoes in an intricate dance to travel in a manner both faster and - probably - less exhausting than pewter dragging.

“Vin!” Zane shouts, running to where she should be able to hear him. “Vin, wait for a moment!”

She drops down next to him, Pulling the horseshoes into her hands as she does. “Zane? I thought you were in Luthadel?”

“I was,” Zane says, “but I came to get you. I could hear them too when I left. The thumping, I could hear it when I was in the palace. It traced it to Kredik Shaw, but I couldn’t pinpoint where exactly it was. Sounded like it was underground, but I couldn’t find anything there.”

“I thought it was in the city,” Vin says. “It’s calling me to go to it. And I want to help my friends.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Zane says, turning back toward Luthadel. Vin nods and takes flight with her horseshoes, a swirling mass of anger and metal. Zane knows they might already be too late, but if there’s even a silver of hope Vin will want to chase it down rather than wasting time talking.

He takes off after her, using pewter to push his body to its limit to stay as close to her as he can. He loses sight of her nearly an hour outside the city, but he can still see the koloss storming the remnants of the Tin Gate when he arrives.

Fighting a battle against enraged beasts on two fronts is more than Zane can manage right now, even with enough pewter to sustain him for several more days, so he heads east around the city, hoping to find a gate still intact enough to defend.

The Pewter Gate is, if anything, even more overrun than the Tin Gate. But opposite the Pewter Gate on a hill overlooking the city Zane can just make out the Venture banner.

Elend was never pompous enough to fly the family banner, even if he were, he is currently several days’ journey north of Luthadel.

Zane smiles, teeth showing.

_Find her!_ God screams. _Help her!_

Zane ignores the voice and turns toward the hill. He admits he briefly considers searching for Vin and spending the last of his energy fighting side by side with her, but dismisses the idea. Vin wants to protect the people of the city, which means getting rid of as many threats to their safety as possible. And while the koloss are certainly a more immediate threat, the man standing on that kill also means to do her people harm.

_Go to her!_  God berates him. _She needs you now!_

Draining the last of the pewter vials Ham had given him to find Vin, Zane heads toward Straff’s army.

Once he is able to make out the front line of soldiers, Zane empties his coinpurse into his hands. Precisely pushing individual coins allows him to kill several men on the front line before they can raise their shields to block his shots. Unperturbed, Zane shoots the rest of his coins in a spray and pulls against the metal of the shields, buckling the army’s formation. With the front line in disarray, Zane rushes toward the army. 

He whips out his daggers and focuses on the fight in front of him. Using a quick series of Pushes and Pulls, Zane throws himself through the throng of soldiers faster than they can follow, his obsidian daggers slicing through flesh as he goes.

He’s nearly to the center of the line when Straff’s voice calls out to him. “Enough, Zane! I can recognize your tactics. Surely you must know you cannot take down the entire army on your own.”

Zane follows the sound of his voice until he stands directly in front of Straff, staring up at him on his horse.

“Are you sure, Father?” he asks softly before lunging forward. He Pulls on the horse’s shoes, causing it to rear up to maintain it’s balance, while he darts under to slice it’s gut open. The horse goes down, writhing in pain until Zane cuts its throat, using its weight to trap Straff against the ground.

Straff looks up at him with true terror in his eyes, and Zane finds that he has no more reservations about ridding the world of this man. Not when he has seen that Straff’s greed and planning has let loose on the city that Vin - that __Kelsier__  - loves.

Zane looms over Straff’s prone form, his knives out as he looks him in the eye. “Are you sure? Because I think I just might give it a try.”

_Kill him,_ God commands.

And Zane does.

Straff’s death does not feel as satisfying as Zane thought it might, but it also doesn’t pang his conscience. Straff was an evil man and a terrible father, and the world is one step closer to Kelsier’s perfect world with him dead.

Zane turns his attention to Straff’s generals.

“Father didn’t think I would be willing to take on an army,” Zane gives a feral grin. “Are you willing to take the same gamble?”

Behind him Zane hears a rumble of a multitude of approaching feet. He’s not sure who or what it is, but he finds he doesn’t care. The identical expressions of horror on the generals faces means it must be bad for them though, and Zane takes that as an answer. He rushes forward, daggers at the ready as he resumes his pinball like motion through the army, taking down the men in command one at a time.

When the last of the lords has fallen off his horse, Zane feels a hand on his shoulder. He stops, turning slowly to see Vin standing in front of an army of koloss and the remnants of Straff’s men.

“Did you leave any of them alive?” she asks.

“There should be commander with the rearguard,” Zane says, eying the carnage around him. “He’s probably the last one.”

Vin nods and walks deeper into the ranks of soldiers. She holds a koloss sword nearly as large as herself on one shoulder and is followed by one of the beasts, a massive thing over twelve feet tall and hulking like no human Zane has ever seen. The men part like water, creating a path for her straight to the last commander.

“You are?” she asks, not bothering to adjust the sword on her shoulder.

“L-lord Janarle,” the man responds.

“Will you stand for these men and pledge your loyalty to Elend Venture?”

“Yes, milady,” he says immediately. “These men are already yours, and I will pledge to whomever you see fit to crown.”

Vin frowns at Janarle. “I am not crowning him. Elend is the rightful heir to House Venture and the Emperor of Luthadel. He has earned his position.”

“As you say, milady,” Janarle agrees, clearly willing to do anything Vin demands. “I pledge myself and my men to the service of Elend Venture.”

“Very good,” Vin nods at him. “You may get up. We will return to the city and sort out the details once salvage has begun.”

Vin returns to the head of her koloss army and begins walking calmly back to the ruined walls of Luthadel. Zane steps forward to walk beside her.

“I don’t suppose Elend gave you approval to name him Emperor,” Zane says conversationally.

Vin looks tired, and Zane remembers she had a longer - and harder - fight than he did. “No,” she says. “But it needs to be done. You were right. This is a crisis and in a crisis the people need to be organized and efficient in a way that only comes through a strong ruler. And that ruler is Elend, whether the people see it or not.”

“That’s a no, then,” Zane surmises. “Although I think he’ll take it from you better than he did from me.”

Vin looks at him in exasperation and Zane nearly cracks a smile. “What can I say, we fight like brothers even if we weren’t raised together.”

She snorts and gets a faraway look in her eyes, clearly thinking of someone else. “Maybe a bit like Kelsier and Marsh,” she admits. “But not all brothers are as good to their family as you and Elend.”

Sensing that this is not a topic he should dwell on too long with Vin, Zane changes the subject.

“Now that the imminent crisis has been averted, when do you want to search Kredik Shaw?”

Vin thinks for a moment before answering. “I want to wait for Elend to get back. There was something odd in the mists and I left him with only Spook. I need to be sure he’s safe before we move forward.”

“All right, we’ll wait,” Zane agrees. “But I think it’s a little late to be waiting on him to move forward. You did just name him emperor, after all.”

A small smile graces Vin’s face. “I did, didn’t I? Well, I hope he likes it.”

  
~*~

  
By the time Elend returns, Zane can hear the thumping every time he burns bronze.  It makes the well easy enough to find, but in the aftermath Zane wishes they had left it alone.

Now they have three Mistborn in Luthadel, and they have done something terrible.

  
~*~

  
Zane stands on the wall and watches as Elend and Vin ride out to the west with the bulk of his army and all their koloss.

“They’ll be back, don’t worry,” Penrod says beside him, and Zane huffs. Of course they’ll be back; Zane’s not worried about the two most powerful Mistborn in the world riding off to wage war. He’s worried about his city.

Penrod is still a sycophant, but Zane appreciates that his efforts are now dictated by Elend’s hand rather than Straff’s. He knows Penrod will do his best for the city, if only because Elend demanded it.

Unfortunately, his best might not be enough.

With Elend and Vin constantly out of the city searching for the Lord Ruler’s storage caches to fight the terror they unleashed on the world in the Well, Zane has largely been left in charge of caring for their city.

He feels like a babysitter.

Luthadel needs food, and lots of it. More than they can grow with the seeds that they have available. Luthadel needs fresh water, and the river requires a labor intensive process to filter out the increased amount of ash spewing from the ashmounts. Luthadel needs wood, oil, and burnable materials for heat and light.

And Luthadel needs all these things in staggering numbers that make Zane’s head hurt.

He silently bemoans the loss of TenSoon and OreSeur. Either one of them would have been able to help him with the running of the city, as both of them were familiar with the inner workings of a noble household.

Unfortunately neither one remained in Luthadel.

TenSoon had told Vin the truth about his identity and returned to the kandra Homeland after Straff’s death in the Siege of Luthadel the previous year. Zane remembers that very clearly, because Vin wouldn’t speak with him for nearly a week, too upset at what she viewed as yet another betrayal of her and Elend’s trust. OreSeur returned to Luthadel from Cett’s army shortly after they took up residence in the city and he spent much of his time sharing stories with Sazed as his own person rather than working jobs for Vin or Zane. Under Vin’s orders he left with Sazed and Breeze to go to Urteau to try to lay claim to the storage cavern there.

Which meant that with Ham and Cett joining the army as they march to Fadrex, Zane has only Penrod to help him run the city.

“They’ll be back,” Zane says eventually, parroting Penrod’s words as he looks forlornly at the tail end of the army as they march westward. “Eventually.”

  
~*~

  
Zane maintains the status quo until the night Penrod is attacked.

After that nothing seems to go quite right.

  
~*~

  
Two men claim to have seen the Survivor.

They claim he told them to go to the Pits of Hathsin.

Zane knows about OreSeur’s Contract with Kelsier and he knows that at best he’s taking advice from a fraud and at worst an enemy has sent a kandra to lie to him, but he’s grasping at straws. The food is running out and his people are scared. Refugees have come in from the north and the south, with news of koloss armies and Inquisitors marching toward Luthadel.

It’s only a matter of time until the city falls.

“Spread the word,” he says to the first guard. “The people are to take only the essentials and head to the Pits. The Terris people will take us in.”

The man nods and leaves, hurrying to relay the information through the emergency network Ham had put in place back when the army was still a rebellion.

“What should I do?” the second man asked.

“Gather the army and let them know there will be two forces; one that stays with the population and travels to the Pits and one that stays to hold off the koloss as long as we can. I want the men Elend sent back to go to the Pits; they’ll need to have at least some men with battle experience there. As for the rest, ask for volunteers. I won’t force anyone to stand on a deathwatch with me, but we need to buy our people enough time to escape.”

The man’s face drains of color, but he nods anyway. “I’ll let them know.”

“Tell them it’s an honor,” Zane says. “The Survivor loved this city and it’s people, and we will be fighting to give them a chance.”

“Yes, milord,” the man says, Zane’s words causing him to puff up slightly. “It is an honor serve the Survivor’s wishes.”

Zane watches him go and shakes his head. A religion only needs one martyr.

Just what is he asking of these men?

  
~*~

  
The koloss arrive from the north, and Zane can see six Inquisitors riding horses at the rear of the columns of teeming bloody blue skin.

_Stand down,_ God says, _let them pass._

Zane shakes his head. They have not had enough time to evacuate the city; he cannot let the Koloss pass.

“We hold the Gates!” Zane shouts, the mistcloak Kelsier had given him fanning out behind him. “We defend the walls and we run messengers just as we did a year before during the Siege of Luthadel. We are all that stands between the koloss and our people and we will fight for them!”

The men behind him at the Tin Gate cheer, although the sound is more subdued than normal. Zane doesn’t bother to try again; everyone here knows they are going to die today. They _agreed_  to die today, not that that makes the prospect any more appealing.

The Inquisitors start down the hill and Zane leaps over the wall to land on the battlefield. He burns pewter and stalks forward, homing in on the approaching Inquisitors. Maybe if he can separate them.

Maybe.

Five sets of spikes turn toward him.

Zane burns pewter and readies his coinpurse.

The Inquisitors leave their columns of koloss to march forward toward the city walls as they home in on Zane’s position. He fires coins at the closest one, unsurprised when they are batted away with a thought. He scatters the rest of the coins into the ground and Pushes on them, plunging them deep into the mud to use as anchors during the fight.

They arrive all at once, and as though of one mind draw their obsidian axes and leap at him in a coordinated attack. Zane uses the coins he planted just moments ago to dart out from under their attack, slicing with his daggers at an exposed back as he goes.

His swing lands a clean blow, but the line of blood disappears just as quickly as it appeared. Zane knows he can’t whittle away at Inquisitors the way he could a normal human or even a Mistborn, but everything he can do to prolong the fight buys valuable time for his men.

Pushing off the anchor points, Zane rushes back toward the Inquisitors, Pushing directly up at the last moment to flip up and over, dodging the Inquisitor’s swing and placing him momentarily behind them. Using pewter to strengthen his body and iron to Pull himself down ever so slightly faster, Zane lands on the spike directly in the middle of the Inquisitor’s back, driving it forward through its body.

The Inquisitor stumbles at the sudden weight and Zane Pulls again, this time on an anchor directly underneath him, adding enough force to his blow that the spike pushes forward through the Inquisitor’s chest.

The Inquisitor howls in rage and pain, and its compatriots rush Zane.

Their pewter fueled dash seems abnormally fast, but he manages to escape the flurry of blades with only a few cuts on his arms. The Inquisitors attack again, and again Zane barely manages to escape with minor wounds.

Then it dawns on him; they’re using his anchors too.

Anger surges through Zane; he knows its irrational but those anchors are __his.__ He cries out as he surges forward, the high he used to get from using his allomancy coming back to him as he finesses his Pushes and Pulls. He ricochets between the Inquisitors, not slowing down as he deals out blows faster than he takes them.  

One of the Inquisitors manages to catch the back of Zane’s thigh as he passes, and Zane grits his teeth at the pain. He tries to regain his feet and steady himself, but his leg gives out, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground.

Zane takes a breath to focus and ignore the pain as the Inquisitors descend on him. The lead one smiles as it draws close, looking like a mockery of the expression Kelsier used to wear.

Pulling hard on one of his anchors, Zane gets himself out of the way just in time for the Inquisitor’s axe to come down on empty dirt. He uses the extra seconds he has to try to pull himself up, but only manages a seated position, his leg unable to support him any further than that.

The Inquisitors advance again and Zane readies his last resort. He knows that koloss and kandra can be controlled by emotional allomancy, and maybe - just maybe - with duralumin he can be strong enough to stop the Inquisitors.

Zane waits until they are close enough to touch. They can clearly sense that he is unable to fight and don’t treat him with the caution a Mistborn - even an incapacitated one - deserves. He burns duralumin and brass, pushing hard at the Inquisitors’ emotions as he can the few seconds the metal lasts.  
  
He knows he hasn’t pierced their minds, but the attack startles them enough to create a momentary opening. Zane flares his pewter and uses his good leg to push forward, just enough to grab the spike he had drive through the Inquisitor’s chest earlier and pull it all the way out.

The Inquisitor drops without making a sound.

Its brethren advance on him, axes raised, and Zane waits for the end.

_You had so much potential,_  God says as the axes fall. _Why couldn’t you have just listened this one last time?_


End file.
